Sword of Rome

by Douglas Jackson

  Valerius didn’t hide his surprise. ‘The Emperor is here?’

  The general frowned. ‘He is marching north. His advance guard, of which I am nominally part, is stationed astride the Via Postumia to the east of Cremona, here, at Bedriacum, threatening Caecina’s flank. We do not yet have the strength to attack, but that will change when the Emperor comes with his main force, or the Thirteenth Gemina arrives.’

  ‘And until then you must hold Placentia.’

  The old soldier nodded slowly, his eyes fixed on the map. ‘When I said an officer of your experience would be helpful, I was in earnest. In fact, you may be invaluable, Gaius Valerius Verrens, Hero of Rome. With Fortuna’s aid, I do not doubt I can make Caecina Alienus wish he had never heard the name Placentia. But the truth is that my greatest obstacles do not lie without the city walls, but within. Including the original garrison of five hundred auxiliaries, I have a force of just under four thousand men to hold this city against Caecina’s twenty-five thousand.’ He walked to a display of cohort standards and ran a hand over a brass laurel wreath, one which Valerius recognized. ‘Otho sent me three cohorts of the Praetorian Guard. Veteran troops admittedly, but years of garrison work have made them soft. Still, I would stake my life on their holding a wall to the last man. In his wisdom, he has also provided me with a vexillation of a thousand men from a newly formed legion, First Adiutrix. You have heard their story?’

  ‘Marines and sailors.’ Juva’s determined face swam into Valerius’s mind. ‘They proved their loyalty when they refused to be deterred by Galba’s cruelty. Raw troops, but keen to prove their worth.’

  ‘A fair assessment,’ Spurinna agreed. ‘Yet their greatest asset is also their greatest failing. They have an over-high estimation of their military potential. Once they have learned the discipline of the shield line, perhaps they might be as good as they think they are. Yet civil war stirs the blood in ways that no other contest will. They, and the Praetorians, are so eager to get their hands on the throats of Vitellius’s rebels that they are almost beyond discipline. Two nights ago the troops’ blood was so hot I was forced to lead an armed reconnaissance. Hopeless, of course. Behind a wall they will be as formidable as any, but out in the open Caecina’s veterans would destroy them in moments.’ Valerius nodded in understanding, if not acknowledgement. ‘Fortunately, our heroes did not find chasing shadows through swampland as much to their liking as they thought. I was able to persuade them home before dawn and they now work to strengthen the walls with renewed vigour, so perhaps the lesson is learned.’ The old general smiled. The things I have to put up with.

  Valerius stood up and saluted. ‘How may I be of assistance to you?’

  ‘As you see, we have razed the houses outside the ditch,’ Spurinna pointed out as they made a circuit of the walls that evening. ‘So we have clear fields of fire for our artillery.’ He laid a hand on one of the many scorpio catapults that had been placed at intervals along the walls and in the towers. The scorpio fired a five-foot arrow that could gut a man or a horse at four hundred paces, and its effect on close-packed ranks had earned it the title Shield-splitter. The defenders had a similar number of onagri, which could launch a stone the size of a man’s head the same distance. Two enormous ballista catapults were strategically positioned in the town to support the outer defences. They would hurl their cauldron-sized missiles while the attackers assembled out of range of the smaller artillery pieces. Valerius’s respect for Spurinna grew when he saw the full extent of his preparations. Spearmen and archers lined walls sturdily built of dressed stone and thirty-five feet high where they dropped into the ditch. Placentia stood on a slightly raised platform of land in the curve of the Padus and was a city experienced in war. It had its origins as a frontier colonia, populated by legionary veterans, with potential enemies on every side, and had endured siege and struggle for a hundred years before Caesar’s peace. On the walkway behind the parapet bundles of javelins and arrows lay heaped in readiness every few yards and thousands more were piled high at the base of the wall ready to replace them. Long poles with V-shaped tops for pushing away scaling ladders stood easily to hand. At the places the general judged most vulnerable to assault or undermining, piles of massive stones had been placed on rough wooden boards, ready to be released at the pull of a lever on to the attackers. These were flanked by braziers to heat oil that would cause horror and agony when poured on a packed scaling ladder.

  ‘You will see that I have concentrated the bulk of our defensive capability on the south and west walls,’ Spurinna said. Valerius studied the two lengths of wall. The first looked out towards the amphitheatre, was between eight hundred and nine hundred paces long, and included six individual towers and the pair guarding the gate. Any attacker would have to negotiate the foundations of the houses Spurinna had ordered demolished before they could reach the wall. To defend this stretch, Valerius had one thousand legionaries of the First Adiutrix, plus two hundred Gaulish auxiliaries, whose job was to protect the towers and load and fire the artillery machines, a force he reckoned just about adequate. For replacement and reinforcement he could count on a cohort of Praetorian Guards, who would lie concealed until they were needed. The west wall ran barely half the length of the south and required fewer defenders, although it would depend on the same Praetorians for reinforcement. Spurinna waited until Valerius had absorbed the position before he explained his other concerns. ‘The open ground by the river is too narrow for Caecina to assemble an assault of sufficient force, and that to the east is swampland. I have gambled that it is boggy enough to deter an attacker in full armour.’ The general shrugged. ‘If I am wrong, it is relatively simple to reinforce along our internal lines.’

  Valerius noticed that despite his casual dismissal of the possibility of attack from the lightly defended sectors, Spurinna had made sure that, like those most likely to be assaulted, the ditches had been filled with hedgehogs of spears fixed to logs and piles of bitumen-soaked brush that could be fired in an instant. One thing puzzled him. He pointed to the great arena that dominated the ground to the south. Constructed of wood and stone, it lay well outside spear or arrow range, but it could have other uses. ‘You have gone to great trouble to clear the houses, yet you have left the amphitheatre, which would appear to offer a fine position for an attacker, who might safely position his artillery within the protection of its walls.’

  Spurinna’s eyes twinkled. ‘You have outed me there, young man. I could tell you that I do not believe Caecina will have carried siege weapons across the Alps, and that would be true. Nevertheless, though I doubt he has the capacity to construct siege towers, he will undoubtedly be able to whip up a few catapults. No, the true reason is that the Placentians are more attached to their amphitheatre than they are their homes.’ He produced a disbelieving laugh at the foolishness of civilians. ‘It is, apparently, a symbol of the town’s wealth and power. That feeling is so strong that I fear if I took the proper military course and destroyed it I would lose their cooperation, which might be fatal in the event of a long siege. I have decided to take the easier approach and leave it where it is.’ The smile broadened. ‘Who knows what can happen in the course of a battle?’ His voice turned serious. ‘Now you understand why I want you to oversee the defence of the south wall for me, while I maintain overall command. If I am right, this will be the place of greatest danger and I need someone I can trust to hold it whatever Caecina throws at us.’

  ‘You talk as if Valens’ army does not exist. Is it wise to discount him?’

  ‘Not wise, perhaps, but realistic.’ The words were accompanied by a savage grin. ‘If Valens and Caecina can combine before the Emperor reaches the Padus, they will have enough strength to crush us like a grape in a walnut press.’

  They carried on round the walls until they came to the gateway. Below them, a squad of legionaries dressed in the distinctive blue tunics of the First Adiutrix worked to strengthen the gates with massive baulks of wood, stockpiling others that would be bra
ced against the rear of the doors if the Vitellians attacked them with a ram. Valerius recognized a familiar figure supervising the men.

  ‘Hail, Juva of the Wavedancer,’ he called. ‘It seems we are ever destined to meet in interesting circumstances.’

  The Nubian looked up with a broad smile that turned serious when he recognized the general. He slammed his fist against his chest in a salute that would have graced a twenty-year veteran. The dark eyes looked Valerius up and down.

  ‘Of the Wavedancer no more. Optio of the first century Fifth cohort.’ Pride suffused Juva’s voice. He looked Valerius up and down, taking in the filthy clothing and the beard, and the new shadows under the eyes. ‘It appears that larks’ tongues are no longer part of your diet, lord, if you have eaten at all this past week. But do not concern yourself. If you have fallen on hard times there is always a place for you in the First Adiutrix.’

  Valerius raised the stump of his right arm. ‘Even for a man with but one hand?’

  The big man considered for a few seconds. ‘Perhaps on half pay, then.’

  When the laughter had died, Juva addressed the general. ‘When will they come, sir? The First would rather be fighting than playing at being carpenters.’

  ‘Then you are already a true legionary,’ Spurinna laughed. ‘For, in my experience, the sign of a true legionary is that he would rather do anything than work. Soon.’ His face turned solemn. ‘They will not keep you waiting for long.’

  The big man saluted again and, with a nod to Valerius, returned to his section.

  ‘Well, you have seen my preparations,’ Spurinna said. ‘Does your experience at Colonia allow you to add anything that might be of help?’

  Valerius looked out over the town and the ants’ nest activity of the soldiers working on the walls and shook his head. ‘At Colonia the lack of walls forced us to take the battle to the enemy. We took what advantage we could of the terrain and made the enemy pay for every inch of ground in blood. When it was clear the battle was lost, we fought our way to the temple and held out for another two days. The defenders of the Temple of Claudius had no hope of victory or survival. The defenders of Placentia have both. My only reservation is the arena. I would burn it now. The military disadvantages outweigh any loss of morale to the citizens.’

  ‘I do not disagree with your assessment, but—’ Spurinna broke off as his eyes were drawn to something on the rampart ahead.

  Valerius followed his gaze to where Serpentius hovered protectively beside a slight figure in a cloak who stared out towards the southern horizon.

  ‘General, may I introduce the lady Domitia Longina Corbulo.’

  Domitia turned to meet them, nodding graciously as she recognized the legate’s scarlet sash. Spurinna’s eyes twinkled and the old soldier carried off a low bow with the poise of a much younger man. ‘I had enormous respect for your late father, lady; if ever there was a soldier’s soldier it was he. My nephew Gaius served as his surgeon during his Armenian campaigns and said his men would follow him to the very gates of Hades. A great loss to the Empire.’

  ‘Thank you, general. I understand that we are not to be permitted to travel south?’

  ‘It is not a question of permission, more that I cannot assure your safety. You will have had your fill of Batavian auxiliaries for today.’

  ‘When will they come?’ She repeated Juva’s question.

  Spurinna looked distracted, as if his mind was elsewhere. ‘When they come, they will come from there.’ He pointed out along the snaking line of the river. ‘From the east, not the south. Ah.’ A tiny pin prick of brightness rose slowly on the far horizon before arcing back to earth. The flaming arrow was quickly followed by a second. With the signal from his scouts, the general’s whole bearing changed, as if an enormous burden had been removed from his shoulders. He smiled. ‘As to when? I do believe they are already on the march and we can expect them in the morning.’

  XLI

  ‘They look well.’ Spurinna laughed appreciatively as he looked out from the parapet at the great army massing before the city.

  Standing beside him among his aides, Valerius had to agree with the general. They did look fine, marching like a crimson tide across the broad farmland beyond the line of razed buildings, in their tight-ranked centuries and their cohorts, armour twinkling in the early morning sun and the brightly coloured shields identifying their legions. The only thing he didn’t share was the older man’s enthusiasm for the sight.

  ‘Twenty-first Rapax, sir.’ A sharp-eyed young tribune noted the twin boars on the scarlet and yellow background. His voice echoed his general’s zeal. ‘A full legion, more or less, and every man a veteran. They’ve been keeping the Helvetii honest up at Vindonissa for the last five years.’

  A horn blew its familiar hoarse call and the legionaries came to an instant halt, not a man out of line and their standard-bearers placed exactly in front of each individual unit. Spurinna turned to Valerius. ‘They can drill, but can they fight?’

  ‘We’ll find out soon enough.’ They watched as a second unit and then a third came into sight and took their places to the right and left of the Twenty-first.

  ‘Twenty-second Primigenia and Fourth Macedonica.’ The aide noted the names down on a wax tablet. ‘They’re a long way from Moguntiacum. Plus about five cohorts of auxiliaries and another three of cavalry.’

  A never-ending line of wagons and carts, mules and livestock crawled in after the legions, but Valerius’s eyes were drawn to a tall figure at the centre of a cloud of immaculately dressed officers which halted in front of the assembled troops.

  ‘If he’s a fool,’ Spurinna commented, ‘he’ll keep them sweating in their ranks while he comes and makes his obligatory offer of terms. If he’s not, he’ll have them make camp while we discuss the pointless niceties. Ah, good. Always better to fight a man who knows what he’s doing.’ As the soldiers dispersed, an individual officer rode out from the group of horsemen. When he was close enough they saw he carried a green branch. ‘Valerius? Young Mettelus? Anyone feel like surrendering? Well then, let’s not keep them waiting.’ They unbuckled their swords and strode out to meet the emissary.

  ‘My legate wishes to discuss the possibility of a peaceful solution,’ the young man said when they were within hearing distance.

  ‘Well, get him here, you fool,’ the general snapped. ‘We haven’t got all day.’

  The aide raised his branch and waved it above his head. Immediately, four riders broke away from the group and rode towards Placentia. As they approached, Spurinna let out a choking grunt. ‘Mars’ arse, the man’s dressed like a Celtic farmer and … is that a bloody woman with him?’

  Caecina’s emissary shot the general a startled glance. ‘I believe it’s his wife, sir,’ Mettelus offered. ‘They say she travels everywhere with him.’

  Spurinna studied the slight figure in the centre with undisguised admiration. ‘Yes, well, you would keep her close, I’ll say that. But it’s not proper. Not proper at all.’

  He turned his attention to the curious figure in the Celtic breeches and tunic. A less confident man would have stayed in the saddle and looked down on his enemies. Instead, Aulus Caecina Alienus vaulted effortlessly to the ground and threw his mount’s reins to an aide. A broad smile creased his handsome, fine-boned face as if this were a surprise encounter with old friends, but Valerius noticed that the smile didn’t quite reach the over-bright eyes. His hair was dark as a raven’s wing and worn long in the fashion of his barbarian auxiliaries. A fine torc of twisted gold strands graced his neck, and others encircled his wrists. The only thing that distinguished him as a Roman soldier was the sculpted breastplate he wore and the scarlet sash at his waist that identified him as a legionary legate. A barnyard cockerel, strutting and proud, Valerius thought, but, it seemed, not a cockerel looking for a fight.

  ‘Aulus Caecina Alienus.’ He bowed. ‘Legate of the Fourth Macedonica and commander of the armies of the North. My Emperor regrets this unfortunate mis
understanding. He desires only peace and prosperity throughout this land.’ The voice was soft and persuasive; charming, but, despite all the owner’s efforts, lacking in sincerity. ‘He believes you have been misled by your superiors and he would welcome you into his protection. All you must do is march your men from the gates within the hour. You have my promise that they will not be molested and they may retain their weapons, their standards and their honour.’ He shrugged as though the rest was not his concern. ‘After that, they may join us or go home, as they please.’

  Spurinna nodded thoughtfully, as if he were considering the offer. ‘And the people of Placentia?’

  Caecina waved a careless hand towards the city walls, but Valerius knew he would be taking in every helmet, spear and artillery position. ‘They are my Emperor’s subjects,’ Vitellius’s general said smoothly. ‘They will be unharmed as long as they are prepared to take the oath to him.’

  ‘And if not?’

  Caecina shrugged. They both knew what would happen if the city fell after a prolonged siege.