by Miller, Ian
"I win!" Gaius said triumphantly.
"I don't understand," Timothy said.
"Unless you can explain why the Moon would push water away from it on the far side, the Earth has to be moving," Gaius smiled. "That the sun does exactly the same thing proves that the Earth moves around the Sun. The reason is on the far side the water is being flung away because it is moving faster. It's all to do with your favourite geometry. Here, I'll show you." He took out a wax tablet, and began drawing.
"That's incredible," Timothy finally said.
"Concede the bet?" Gaius smiled.
"What do you want?" Timothy said suspiciously.
"Just your concession, old friend," Gaius replied.
"I think it's an extraordinary effort," Timothy said, then added with a grin, "but you can hardly expect me to concede without some effort. After all, you retreated to think, and you'd hardly expect me to counter that immediately."
"Of course you can have some time," Gaius said softly. "I just hoped you would see the overall beauty of it."
"I do," Timothy replied, "but that doesn't mean that that's the end of it. I must make sure you're right."
Chapter 22
The summer was almost over when the day for embarkation arrived. Representatives of each of the legions together with the entire cohorts that were scheduled to depart had been assembled before a large wooden platform. The Princeps himself would address them, or so the troops believed. There was an air of anticipation as Plautius took the stand. The favourable bubble burst when Plautius stated that the Princeps had sent Narcissus to speak on his behalf. A cacaphony of groans burst out, which became ruder and ruder. Narcissus stared at Plautius, who in turn was beginning to look afraid. This had all the makings of mutiny.
The ill temper culminated when one man from the Augusta climbed onto a rock and yelled out, "And since when do the men of the Augusta listen to a slave?"
"Io, Saturnalia!" yelled a wit from the twentieth.
There was a stunned silence for a second, then suddenly everyone burst out laughing at the look on the face of the man standing on the rock. Rhetorical questions were not supposed to be answered, particularly with a correct answer.
"That bugger just wants a cookie!" another yelled. It was common during the formalities for treats to be handed out after that chant.
"Then give him one of the Augusta's! One of their cooks makes 'em like rocks!"
"Bloody twentieth! Can't even tell the difference between winter and summer!"
Suddenly the whole assembly had broken down into an exchange of increasingly rude but ribald insults and attempted jokes at a different legion's expense. A pair of hands pulled the stunned protester down from his stone.
As the insults finally began to ebb, Narcissus took to the stand again. Rome, he said, could not have an enemy on its western flank that could come and raid as they wished, for they were not afraid of falling off the end of the world. The great Julius had crossed without difficulty, supplies had crossed for him several times, and nobody or no ship was lost other than in battle, or by storm. There would be no storms that day.
They were afraid of falling off the end of the world, were they? That would not happen. How did he know? Well, if the current was so strong that it would sweep a ship off the end of the world, a huge amount of water must be falling over continuously, right? There was a silence. The troops did not like the idea of sailing, but they had to admit that if ships were to be swept over, the water had to be going over all the time.
If seawater were falling off the end of the world, Narcissus continued, sooner or later even the sea would run out of water. The sea levels were as high now as in the times of Julius, or as in the times of the ancient Egyptians, thousands of years ago. Some fearsome loss! There was some laughter.
Then, Narcissus said, have a look at the local tides. Twice a day, the sea fell by up to thirty feet around here. Falling over the edge? Well, six hours later it all comes back again. If that's falling over the edge, it hasn't done the fish any harm! There was more laughter. Men had seen the tides, and they recognized that the water did come back, and the fish survived. Then, on top of that, Narcissus continued, look at how fast the sea comes back. If it is falling over the edge of the world, it's falling the wrong way! When was the last time any of you saw something fall up!
A barrage of rude but good-natured comments arose. The bubble of discontent had burst. Then on top of that, Narcissus added, one of the centuries had already been over there and back. And no cohort was missing a century. Rome required them to sail, and defeat these miserable Celts. Surely they were not afraid of battle?
When Narcissus stood down, Vespasian stepped forward with a small group of Praetorians. He pointed towards the first century of the first cohort, and ordered them to board before the other legions died of laughter at their spinelessness. The men felt decidedly uncomfortable, but while everyone else was laughing, there was little option. The next cohort followed, and before long boarding commenced.
When it was clear that the invasion was truly under way, Gaius sought out Timothy. "I want you to go back to Rome for a while, and travelling with Narcissus' party should be a safe way of getting there."
"You don't want me on campaign with you?" Timothy's eyes were a little downcast.
"Nothing like that at all, old friend," Gaius said as he gave Timothy's shoulder a reassuring grip. "There's something that needs to be done by someone I trust."
"That is?" his eyes lit up.
Gaius then explained the situation he was facing regarding Quintus and the corn. "The money isn't the issue," Gaius explained, "but the problem is I have left Vipsania a job, and Quintus is obviously not being cooperative. Again, by itself that's just a nuisance, but it's upsetting Vipsania, and she may not be feeling very secure, especially after what her father did."
"So, what do you want me to do?"
"First, reassure Vipsania, and while you're doing that, you can tell her what's going on here, what we've done, and so on. Secondly, see what you can find out about this corn, and you might like to set up some sort of watch for the next shipment. Finally, go with Vipsania whenever she goes to see Quintus."
"And if Quintus becomes difficult?"
"Tell him that when I get back, I shall do more unto him than that which has been done unto you and Vipsania." And that, Gaius thought to himself, was probably not what Rebecca meant, but for the moment it would have to do.
"Right, then I'd better see Narcissus and see if it is all right by him."
"I've already seen him," Gaius said. "He'll be pleased to have your company, and I've given him a letter to Claudius explaining why you're going back. When you've done what has to be done, you're welcome to rejoin me for next year's campaigning, and I promise you'll have a privileged view."
* * *
Shortly after Timothy departed, the man who had yelled out "Io, Saturnalia!" was called to Gaius' tent.
"I see you are one of the more disruptive in your cohort and you have a rather impressive list of fatigues," Gaius remarked, "but you're also a good soldier when you put your mind to it."
The man stood impassively.
"As it happens you've done me a great favour," Gaius continued, "so we shall wipe these fatigues."
"Thank you, sir."
"I've also looked into the cause of those fatigues."
The man returned to standing impassively.
"Apparently," Gaius continued, "you seem to have this propensity for making smart comments when things aren't going right, almost like this call today."
The man said nothing.
"You think you know better?"
The man did not reply, but stood at attention, waiting for the rebuke.
"I see you can restrain yourself some of the time," Gaius nodded. "As it happens, on at least one of the occasions, your comment had some merit, not that I can approve of your making it. I hope you can see that war is not the time for smart-arsed comments when an order is given?"
<
br /> "Yes sir."
"The question is, can you be more disciplined when the invasion starts? Can you restrain yourself from these bouts of, shall we say, loutishness?"
There was no reply, but the man was clearly feeling awkward.
"I'm prepared to take a chance with you," Gaius continued. "You're a good soldier when you put your mind to it, so put your mind to it as of now. I need men who can see an opening and are prepared to take advantage of it, without being silly. I'm going to make you an Optio, and I hope you won't let me down when the fighting starts."
"I won't. Thank you, sir."
"Right," Gaius said with a smile. "Dismissed."
Chapter 23
Dubrae! So keen the anticipation, Gaius noted to himself, that everybody had forgotten about falling over the end of the world. On the other hand, this might almost be the end of the world. Directly in front was a small harbour, behind which was a small fishing village. On the waterfront, when the fishermen saw this mighty fleet approaching, they dropped whatever they were doing and fled. Not too far away to the left and right, cliffs rose from the sea. As they got closer Gaius noticed that directly in front there was some reasonably flat land that narrowed as it went inwards. To both left and right there were promontories that should have made good observation points for defenders, were any there.
It occurred to Gaius that if he were a Celt and had a reasonable number of troops and some artillery, he would back himself to repel this invasion. The Celts knew exactly where the Romans would land, because they had to land at places other than below vertical cliffs, and where a number of ships could reasonably unload troops on sufficient land that the troops could advance and get out of the road of the troops yet to land. There were only about three such sites, and Rome was using all of them. The act of landing involved the invaders coming ashore slowly and beaching their boats, but not beaching them so firmly that the boats could not immediately put to sea again, which was required if they were to get out of the way of the next boats. This was a very slow exercise, and catapults firing onto the beach would cause chaos for the final thirty meters or so, while out to two or three hundred meters direct hits from the large ballistae would be sufficient to put a hole in most boats. The ballistae could also employ fire bolts, which would also have interesting consequences. The heavily armoured soldier was not going to swim ashore, and if any made it, troops on the shore with long spears would have a significant advantage, with the invaders struggling to even stand up in the surf and the undertow. The artillery on the shore would effectively have free shots, because there was nothing on these boats that could return fire, except perhaps for some archers, and those archers could do nothing to artillery that was properly placed on rises.
As they approached the beach, Gaius saw a small head look out from a hut. He smiled to himself as he saw a pair of arms pull the youngster back in. The mother need not fear. There was no Celtic force that would lead to fighting, and the Roman soldiers were under no illusions. Gaius had made it very clear that any crime against the local civilians would be met with the most severe punishment a Claudian could imagine, and as the last thirty years in Rome had shown, Claudii were not without imagination when it came to punishment.
As Gaius had predicted, the ships arrived shortly after dawn with a tide about to run in. The boats were driven into the beach and the troops rushed onto land. Gaius ordered an immediate march from the leading centuries to secure the high ground to the north of the bay, and as soon as the next wave of boats beached, further centuries were dispatched to secure the southern hill. The soldiers quickly advanced, but there was no opposition. The fourth cohort, when it landed, was sent inland. They marched two miles, then began to set up camp on the flattest available spot. Fortifications were erected, and watches set. This, Gaius realized, was the second most vulnerable period, as a full legion was so large it would take quite some time to get it all in place.
Over the next few days the rest of the legion, its auxiliaries, its equipment and its supplies landed, unopposed. The frantic construction of defensive fortifications later gave rise to a number of rude jokes, for there seemed to be nothing to defend against. The local tribes kept a polite distance, and the Roman soldiers did nothing to antagonize their "allies". In order to keep the locals as allies, Gaius offered to buy fish. The fishermen's eyes lit up when they heard how many were required. A full legion could eat a lot of fish, and "luxurious" food would do a lot for morale. Rations could return to normal once the invasion was well underway.
All went well the first day, and on the second, once the paperwork was completed, Gaius found himself with nothing to do. Again, the last thing the Tribunes would want was his overseeing, so he decided to walk to the inner edge of the camp and view the country they had come to conquer. A slight feeling of unease began to descend on him as he peered out over what was a rather wild scene. A half a mile to the west of the Roman camp on the side of a small hill were three pathetic huts made of old and decaying thatching, from which ragged children emerged from time to time. As he got closer, their lack of nutrition became obvious, but even more so was their lack of attention to hygiene. It was hard to tell when they had last washed, and it looked as if the rags they were dressed in had never been washed. Their expression was surly, and when offered food they grabbed it and pulled away. As far as Gaius could tell, they knew no Latin. The huts were flimsy, and beside one of the huts was a pathetic heap of firewood, far too small to protect them from the winter. There was no obvious sign of a father, which meant there was nobody to get more wood, nobody to get food. Yes, there were poor in Rome too, he knew, but at least it was warmer and drier in Rome. The poor were just a fact of life, and nothing could be done about them.
That was not quite correct, he realized, as if Rebecca was reminding him. He had the power of life and death. He could encourage tribal chieftains to see that such poor were able to live tolerably. It was not as if they would willingly turn him down, for there was nobody to overturn his decisions as to who would be sent to Rome as slaves. And while he was not intent on sending any more than he was ordered to, and allies would not be sent, they did not know that. He would have a word with the local chief. Those children would be fed. Perhaps, he smiled to himself, this walk was achieving something after all.
A little to the right of the huts was a huge tangle of brambles, while to the left was a track, below which was a reedy swamp. Behind the huts was a tangle of vegetation leading to the forest proper. The soldiers would love marching through this, he thought to himself. Narrow tracks, brambles, bogs, this was not the terrain best suited for deploying complex formations.
Nor was it the most desirable territory to conquer. This was a land where poor people scratched a very modest living. Vegetation grew well in the cool temperatures and frequent drizzle, but while wheat and grapes were grown, yields were something of a hit or miss nature, with crops often spoilt by rain or mould. Apart from the tin to west, this was a poor country, and it was far from certain that four legions could be profitably stationed here.
Caratacus and Togodumnus were fools of the first order. They should have sworn loyalty to Rome, and invited the Roman senators to visit, preferably in late winter. One look at these miserable huts, and there would have been no invasion!
The next task was obvious: proper maps were required of the inner regions. He spoke to the chieftains and got what information he could, then he sent exploratores inland, together with local tribesmen who had volunteered their services as guides. He needed as much information as possible on what route he should take to march inland, and on where ambushes would be most likely. This was not going to be easy, but he could get as much information as possible to help him.
* * *
A week passed, during which time the legion became well-prepared to march, but little else happened, other than that a ship arrived with messages from the Princeps for Plautius, and, in addition to other mail, a letter from Vipsania.
My Darling Gaius,
By now I trust you will have embarked. You had better have embarked, because I believe the Senate will be in open revolt if Claudius cannot get his troops to invade. Little Boots might have manage to get away with collecting seashells, but I assure you, that won't work again.
Poor Claudius! He was so angry when Plautius' request came. He knows that if he went, the troops would laugh at his stuttering and would never embark. Then your letter arrived, so he told me, and he cheered up quite a bit. He still had to rely on Narcissus to convince the men, but I gather the last throw of the die would have been for the twentieth to lead the invasion. I am sure you would have got your men to sail.
On that note, you may tell the soldier whose farm was under threat that he now has a little more land. Claudius sent an agent out to reason with the landowner, and the landowner pulled out a knife and told the agent to get off his land, or else. Claudius also sent some Praetorians who were instructed to demonstrate what "or else" meant following an Imperial order. The landowner was executed for threatening an Imperial agent, and his sons have been conscripted to legions in Mauretania. The land has been confiscated, but a section immediately adjacent to your soldier's farm has been added to that farm. The Centurion let it be known in no uncertain terms that if he had to return to that region to settle the affairs of a loyal Roman soldier, he would be very angry, and he would also be rather unrestrained. I think all the neighbours received the message.
I have followed your advice about the corn however it also occurred to me that maybe corn was stolen, but not by Quintus. He may not know any more about this than we do, so I have arranged for an ex-soldier to go to Egypt and secretly keep an eye on what happens. I hope you don't mind my paying him.