[Gaius Valerius Verrens 06] - Scourge of Rome (30 page)

‘Nevertheless, three days with a swarm of locusts consuming our supplies, so we must try. I will draft an appeal to Titus asking him to provide free passage. They are innocents, harmless families with children, and this is not their war. He may be a Roman, but if our foe is an honourable man he cannot refuse.’

‘No.’

Valerius and the officers gathered in Titus’s command pavilion for the council of war that would decide the fate of Jerusalem struggled to hide their reactions to his unexpected decision. Sumptuous wall hangings of red, gold and purple insulated the tent for both heat and sound. The single other decoration was a bust of the Emperor looking grim and square-jawed, with more hair than Valerius remembered from their last meeting. ‘There are no innocents in war. Draft a message informing the commander of Jerusalem that no one may leave the city before its formal surrender, which he is perfectly at liberty to offer.’

‘I agree there are no innocents in war.’ The speaker was Marcus Clemens, the new commander of the Twelfth and a long-time friend of Titus’s family. Of them all he was closest enough to his commander to offer a contrary opinion. ‘But surely there are practical reasons for allowing them to leave. We are told they are mostly peasant families?’ Josephus, who stood at the back of the tent, nodded in agreement. ‘Then they pose little danger to us outside the city. But keep them penned inside and for every family you have a protector who will fight to the death for them.’

The suggestion provoked a murmur of agreement. Titus had invited all four of his legionary commanders to gather round a map of Jerusalem. Valerius knew Clemens by sight and Lepidus of the Tenth well. The others were Titus Phrygius, a grim-faced senator who commanded the Fifteenth, and Sextus Cerealis, veteran legate of the Fifth, one of Corbulo’s legions during the conquest of Armenia. Tiberius Alexander, the army’s chief of staff, stood slightly apart alongside Marcus Antonius, Judaea’s procurator. The only surprising absentee was Alexander’s deputy, Paternus, but that could be explained by his recent arrival. Valerius had no formal role at the conference and he determined to keep his face as closed as his mouth. Nevertheless, his presence was a mark of Titus’s favour and he was grateful for it.

Clemens concluded his argument. ‘By refusing this offer you almost certainly double the number of men facing us and make it more difficult to fight our way through the town when the walls are breached.’

Titus nodded thoughtfully, but he was conceding the point, not the argument. ‘You are right, Marcus, but this is not a military decision, it is a practical one. I believe it may save us much time and thousands of my soldiers’ lives. They are short of supplies you say, Josephus?’

‘Yes,’ the Judaean agreed. ‘They had gathered enough grain to feed the city for two years, but John of Gischala stole what he could for his own men and burned the rest. The fire happened after the last harvest and you have invested the place before the next. It couldn’t have been worse timed for them. I doubt they have enough to hold out for six months.’

‘Six months.’ Titus’s blue eyes searched the tent for any contrary opinion. ‘But I do not have six months. My father will return to Rome in three and I intend to present him with Jerusalem as a gift for his homecoming. Six months’ supply for a city of a hundred thousand people is a month’s supply for six times that number.’

‘You plan to starve them out?’

‘That will be part of my strategy, yes, Lepidus. The sight of starving children will ever be a recommendation to surrender. When fathers see the flesh falling from the faces of their sons, the milk drying up in the mothers’ breasts, they will be quick to make their views known.’

Valerius wondered whether Titus was again guilty of underestimating his enemy. He remembered the fatalism of the Judaeans who had leapt to their deaths at Gamala. They too had been peasants, but they’d been prepared to die rather than surrender. Would a man who’d watched his child die be any more likely to give up? But he knew his view was coloured by another consideration. He’d seen what happened when besieged cities fell. If Titus was wrong and Jerusalem had to be assaulted, all those thousands of women and children would be trapped. The screams and the scent of roasting flesh at Cremona returned to him and his stomach soured at the memory. When he looked up he found Titus staring at him.

‘We are agreed then. They stay unless the tactical situation warrants otherwise. Now, to the city itself …’

They talked over the various possibilities, the most favourable assault points, the difficulties presented by three separate walls, the siting of artillery. The detail of any attack would be dictated by the legates, but the principle was agreed. Three legions, the Fifth, Twelfth and Fifteenth, would invest the west of the city, while the Tenth maintained its position on the Mount of Olives to divide the attention of the defenders.

‘You say this valley would provide a site capable of accommodating us, Josephus?’

‘Not the valley itself, lord, the terrain is too rugged. But deploy on the plateaus to the north and south and you will have the freedom to attack the walls on either side, while ensuring the defenders must man both.’

‘Very well. The final decision will be mine, but that can wait.’

‘There is one more thing, general …’ Even Clemens sounded hesitant.

‘Yes?’

‘The temple. It is …’

‘Sacred to the Judaeans. I understand that.’

Clemens looked to Josephus for support, but the Judaean only shrugged. In this matter he could afford no opinion. ‘If we take the city by storm, which naturally, given your earlier statements, we pray will not be necessary …’ Titus nodded, but in a way that hinted his patience was wearing thin. ‘The rules of war insist that it be destroyed; burned to the ground and every piece of plunder removed,’ Clemens continued. ‘Yet, as you have rightly said, it is sacred, not just to our enemies who defend the city, but to our allies. Herod, the father of the present ruler, near bankrupted his kingdom to create this wonder. His followers, some of whom will fight at our side, revere not just the structure but everything it stands for. With respect, might we not issue a special protocol guaranteeing the protection of the Great Temple and its contents? Such a gesture could erode the fighting spirit of the defenders almost as much as the tactics you have suggested.’

Titus smiled. ‘A fine speech, Marcus, and a fine sentiment. It is true that, as a structure, the temple has never been surpassed, and that as a fount of their religion it can never be replaced.’ Valerius glanced towards Josephus and imagined he saw a mix of calculation and triumph on his face that vanished when the Judaean realized he was being observed. ‘You will not be surprised that I have pondered this matter, which I agree is of great importance, and that I have taken advice from the most distinguished sources.’ It seemed certain Josephus was the source Titus meant, but a titter of nervous laughter from Antonius, the youngest man present, suggested the answer might be more complex. A savage glare from Titus and a promise of violent retribution in Alexander’s stare instantly silenced the procurator. ‘If the building is protected it shows my father in a certain light: magnanimous in victory and tolerant of the Empire’s religions, which may be no bad thing. Likewise, it is of unsurpassed beauty, which immediately makes one jealous of its welfare, much as a man might attempt to preserve his finest sculpture in a fire. Yet there is another aspect, and as a military commander it would be neglectful of me not to consider it. Look out across the valley there and what do you see?’

‘A fortress,’ Clemens suggested.

Titus shook his head. ‘A fortress within a fortress within a fortress. Perhaps a thousand fortresses. And it is possible that we will have to expend Roman blood to take every one. I look at Jerusalem and I see a complex defensive work of a like we have never confronted before and at its heart is the most impregnable fortress of all. The temple.’

He paused to allow his words to make their mark. Each man’s mind turned to the puzzle that must be unlocked and every man came to the same conclusion. Titus rose from the table and drew back the curtain covering the doorway. Framed in the opening, almost as if he had planned it, was the temple.

‘One way or another we will take Jerusalem.’ His voice took on a stony resolve Valerius had never heard before. ‘From the information I have received, the temple will be defended to the last by these Zealot fanatics and their Sicarii allies. If that is the case, they have made their decision. It is no longer the temple, the sacred, hallowed ground of an ancient religion. It is a stronghold that is an affront and a challenge to Rome. If they choose to shed Roman blood defending it, then they and it will take the consequences. If, to save one Roman life, I must use every siege engine to batter the temple into dust I will not shrink from it; perhaps,’ his eyes turned to Valerius, ‘they may even choose to burn it themselves, and perish in the ashes. If that is the case I will grant them their wish. Go now and make your dispositions. We will convene again tomorrow afternoon. In the meantime, I would ask the commanders of the Fifth, Twelfth and Fifteenth to study the western defences and form alternative plans to attack.’

As the officers rose and filed from the tent Titus held a whispered conversation with Josephus. When Valerius went to follow them Vespasian’s son held up a hand to signal him to stay. Eventually, Josephus nodded solemnly and walked out with a glance at Valerius that was almost conspiratorial.

When they were alone Titus sighed and rubbed his face with his hands like a weary man at the end of a long day. He turned to Valerius with a wry grin. ‘Everyone has an opinion and all must be heard,’ he complained. ‘But it is important they know I trust them and value their experience. You too have an opinion, I suspect. You are not usually quite so backward in expressing it.’

‘I am your guest, general. Guests don’t offer an opinion until their host demands it.’

‘Well? I saw your face when we were discussing the pilgrims. You think I am being harsh by insisting they stay and share the hardships of the rebels?’

‘No.’ Valerius shook his head. ‘I think Clemens is correct that there are risks, but if you are right those risks are worth taking.’

‘And the temple?’

‘I know you well enough to know you wouldn’t wantonly destroy anything of such beauty, but I was at Cremona, and in Rome when the Temple of Jupiter burned. War breeds complications. Men make mistakes. Orders are misunderstood. If the Judaeans defend the temple complex you have no option but to attack it. When you do, anything can happen.’

‘Good.’ Titus smiled, more friend now than general. ‘I’m glad you understand. You saw the Zealots this morning and at Gamala. What do you make of them?’

Valerius met his eyes, trying to gauge the likely effect of the unpalatable truth he was about to utter. Eventually he said: ‘I think you will have to wade knee-deep through blood to take Jerusalem.’

For a moment Titus looked as if he had been slapped in the face, but he recovered quickly and nodded to acknowledge the possibility. ‘I will do everything in my power to avoid it, but if that is what it takes to break the rebels and deliver this city to my father, I will not shirk from it.’

In the silence that followed Valerius wondered if his friend’s head was filled with the same images that haunted him, but it seemed Titus had other things on his mind.

‘I had word by courier that you were on your way.’ He held up a hand to forestall Valerius’s question. ‘It does not matter who sent it, only that they had your interests at heart. You seek a position on my staff, a command perhaps?’

Valerius kept his face emotionless and thanked his nameless benefactor for saving him the necessity of having to plead. ‘I will serve wherever you think I can be of the greatest value.’

‘A good answer, as always,’ Titus’s eyes turned knowing, ‘but one you may live to regret.’ He strode to the doorway and drew back the curtain. By now it was full night, but the watchfires of Jerusalem twinkled on the far side of the valley. ‘Did you know that, on the day the man Christus died, the Judaeans claim it was as dark as this at noon?’

Valerius went to stand beside him. ‘A cloud covers the sun,’ he said. ‘A soothsayer claims a miracle, the story grows with the years until it becomes truth. Before Colonia fell to Boudicca men claimed statues toppled of their own accord and the sea turned red, but I saw neither.’

‘My ever practical Valerius.’ Titus smiled and clapped his shoulder. ‘It is reassuring to know you haven’t changed. Good, that means I can be open with you. There will be no command for you in the Army of the East.’ Despite himself, Valerius flinched at the blow to his hopes. Titus was astute enough to recognize his disappointment and tried to soften the impact. ‘If it were my decision only, Valerius, you would have an eagle and a legion to follow it, but there are other considerations. You should know my father believes none of the nonsense uttered at your trial. In time, there will be compensations, but first he must consolidate his position. You know better than I the undercurrents and shifting loyalties in the Senate.’ He waited for an acknowledgement from Valerius and the one-handed Roman nodded. ‘That means my brother Domitian has an important part to play. He has laid the foundations for my father’s return and he can just as easily remove them. After what happened in Rome, to give you a command in my army would be seen as an insult to Domitian. For my father’s sake, and for my own reasons, I cannot afford to risk that.’

‘It was asking too much.’ Valerius picked up his cloak and made to leave, but Titus hurried across and took it from him.

‘Let there be no misunderstanding between us, Valerius. I meant every word and dearly regret being unable to give you the command your experience and your friendship merit. Yet you said you were prepared to serve where you would be of the greatest use? Did you mean it?’

‘Of course. I will serve in the ranks. Perhaps if I distinguished—’

‘You have distinguished yourself enough for three lifetimes, my friend, but it would make no difference. These are political practicalities, not military ones.’ Valerius stared at him in consternation. What now? ‘The service I have in mind may be distasteful. It may also be dangerous. Josephus tells me you saved his life?’