Soldier of Rome: The Last Campaign (The Artorian Chronicles) (16 page)

“What was that?” Landon asked.

“I never told you where I came from originally,” Alaric replied, turning to face his friend. “It is time I did.”

As they were the same age, and Alaric had only been a boy of four or five when his mother brought him to Britannia, Landon had never given much thought to his friend’s origins when they were growing up.
Alaric had also been but thirteen when he left Brigantes. So it was with great interest that Landon listened to his friend tell of the Marsi people in Germania, a great race of warriors who lived along the River Rhine, near the frontier of the Roman Empire. His mother never told him why the Romans had come to destroy their village, though a conversation he had with a centurion many years later led him to believe that it was in retribution for what the soldier had called an ignominious betrayal by the Marsi.

Alaric remembered little of Germania and regretted that he could not recall what his father had looked like.
All he had were stories Milla had told him, along with a few details the Roman soldier had given him.

“Do you think the centurion had any reason to lie to you?” Landon asked.

Alaric shook his head. “I don’t think so. He was completely unapologetic regarding the destruction of my people. He said his brother had been killed years before, during an ambush that the Marsi took part in. I don’t think he was trying to be provocative, though if he was, what could I have done about it? He was heavily armed, with a number of his men within earshot. But no, I think his words were simply a way of reinforcing to me just how cruel the world is. And those who think otherwise will be enslaved or killed by the strong.”

“And yet from the way you talk,” Landon said with his brow furrowed, “I cannot tell if you hate the Romans or not. I mean, I can certainly understand your mother’s abject fear of them. And yes, I think that perhaps it was a mercy that she passed on long before they came here.”

“I tried to hate them,” Alaric replied. “It’s hard to explain, but I have always felt more confusion than anything when it comes to Rome. During my travels, I ended up serving aboard one of their warships. It was there that I was taught both sailing and how to fight with a gladius.”

“So the story I heard about you fighting pirates alongside the Romans is true?”

“It is,” Alaric admitted. “Something else I am glad my mother never knew. I sometimes think she would have rather I died rather than draw a blade and fight for them.
And when I was in the east, I met a man; a Judean teacher. His followers to this day claim he was the son of God.”

“Which god?” Landon asked.

“They have but one, so I assume he needs no other name. I cannot say for certain. I did not spend time learning about the Jewish beliefs, only what this brave and noble man taught us. He said that we should love not just our neighbors, but also our enemies. Though he didn’t call them by name, it was clear that he was referring to the Romans.”

“Well
, was he the son of their god?” Landon persisted.

“I don’t know,” Alaric shrugged. “It’s possible. I mean, if we believe in the plethora of deities that we’ve been told live within the water, the earth, and the sky, then why not? But whether he was, that’s not what’s important. What matters is that he brought a message of something other than hatred. I’ve carried it with me, though I do not know if I can truly forgive the Romans for what they did to my people, and what they continue to subject others to who dare to stand against them.”

Artorius and Sempronius walked into the entrance of the principia tent the morning following their arrival in Gesoriacum. A pair of legionaries stood guard, and inside were gathered the men who would lead Rome in its first conquest in generations.

As commander-in-chief of the expeditionary force, Aulus Plautius would not directly command any of the legions, instead relying on his subordinate legates. Flavius Sabinus had recently assumed
command of the Fourteenth Gemina, with his brother, Vespasian, leading the Second Augusta. The Ninth Hispania, which was at the time posted in North Africa, was led by the venerable Gnaeus Hosidius Geta. He was a battle-hardened veteran who, despite being barely thirty, had already completed two command tours. His reputation was particularly fierce following his victories in Mauretania. The only legate missing was Glabrio of the Twentieth Valeria.

The legates, chief tribunes, and master centurions all sat at a large oaken table in the center of the tent. Equite tribunes and other senior centurions sat on chairs along the outer walls of the tent. The only exception to this was Artorius’ old friend, Aulus Nautius Cursor, who
being in command of the task force’s cavalry was seated at the head table. Artorius gave a nod of respect to his friend.

“Gentlemen,” Plautius said. He stood at the head of the table, a freedman clerk on either side and a stack of documents piled on the table in front of him.
“Next spring the conquest begins!”

Though this was a commonly held consensus, the general’s words made it official. The term
conquest
also made this far different from the usual expedition, emphasizing that once the invasion force landed in Britannia, they were there to stay.

“As you well know,” Plautius continued, “thi
s will be a massive undertaking. Given the volatility of Britannia, I suspect that the mission of conquest and pacification will continue long after we have passed the sword on to our sons and grandsons. This will not be a mere show of force with a mock attack on the sea, like what happened just a couple years ago. Nor will we make the same mistakes as Julius Caesar and invade with too few troops. The emperor’s father, Drusus Nero, once predicted that a successful conquest of Britannia would require four legions, with an even larger compliment of auxiliary forces. As we shift forces within the empire to compensate for uprooting the invasion force, you can see who will now be responsible for the regions your legions have covered for many years.”

The clerks then quickly passed around a series of parchments to each legion commander. The scroll handed to Sempronius and Artorius read:

Legio II, Augusta in Argentorate, Germania
3
– Replaced by Legio VIII, Augusta

Legio IX, Hispania in Vindobona, Pannonia
4
– Replaced by Legio X, Gemina

Legio XIV, Gemina in Carnuntum, Pannonia
5
– Replaced by auxiliaries

Legio XX, Valeria in Cologne, Germania – Not replaced, Legio I, Germanica to remain in place

“Logistics stores of rations and construction equipment have been staged in Cologne,” Plautius continued. He then looked to Sempronius for confirmation.

“Yes, sir,” the chief tribune replied. “
We have sufficient pre-cut lumber to build at least two full-sized wooden forts. Extra grain siloes have also been built just outside the fortress with several farms for growing vegetables and raising livestock acquired. I estimate that we currently have enough raw food stores to feed four legions for approximately six months; half that if we factor in the auxiliaries.”

“We’re building a large supply depot here as well,” Plautius added. “While we can certainly forage once we land in Britannia, the emperor wants to keep this to a minimum. Taking from those w
e intend to rule does not win us allies for Rome. And while a certain amount of plunder from those we forcibly subjugate is expected, our long term goal is to pacify the people, not turn them against us. After we’re established, it will take the strength of both diplomacy, as well as the sword to conquer Britannia.”

Scribes next handed each group a rudimentary map showing the
southeast coastline of the isle. Their current location in Belgica was also marked. Three large arrows pointed towards various points on the coast, with subsequent markings showing a rough approach each group was to take towards a river that ran into the sea to the north.

“We will land in the Kingdom of the Cantiaci,” Plautius said. “
They are closest to our lands, and we can establish a foothold and initial base of operations there with supply lines running across the channel to the continent. The Atrebates, whose king the emperor has promised to restore to power, are located to the west of Cantiaci. They were conquered about three years ago by a powerful kingdom known as the Catuvellauni. They, and their allies, will be our most significant threats.”

“What of the Cantiaci?” Geta asked. “Will they offer resistance?”

“I have the reassurance from a deputation sent by their king, Eppillus, that they will not,” Plautius replied. “Their lands are small and the number of warriors insubstantial. I suspect they will welcome us, as they live in fear of the Catuvellauni. Plus, Eppillus is the brother of King Verica of Atrebates. Our first test of diplomacy will be how we treat the Cantiaci. If we show temperance, then others will see the good will of Rome. If subjugate them with an iron fist, it will only unite the other tribes against us. We want to keep hostile and undecided peoples divided as much as possible.”

“That does not mean that our landing will go unopposed,” Vespasian noted. “The Catuvellauni and their allies will march right through the Cantiaci lands. Eppillus does not have the strength to oppose either them or us, and so he will simply have to wait and try to make amends with whoever the victors are.”

“We also cannot land our entire invasion force at a single point,” Plautius said, drawing their attention back to the maps. “Therefore we will launch three divisions simultaneously. I will accompany the Ninth and Fourteenth Legions to the north. The Twentieth will land to the south of us, with the main corps of cavalry. The Second will be on the far left and will have the largest contingent of auxiliaries in support, scouting and covering the left flank of the army.”

“What of the Atrebates’ king?” Vespasian asked. “Our approach will run just parallel to their lands. Do you wish him to accompany me?”

“No,” Plautius replied. “He will be with me, as I will be first to encounter King Eppillus, who will announce the return of the Atrebates king to them. Once we land we will merge into two battle groups. Sabinus will command the right wing, Vespasian the left. Each legion will have a certain amount of autonomy, as long as they continue to advance while meeting my intent. Our main objective for the first phase of the invasion is this river here.” He then pointed to a spot on the map which showed two large bays on the east coast, each leading into a river. Plautius pointed to the smaller one to the south.

“This is the River Medway. The terrain of this land is heavily forested and hostile. Geta, your North African troops have the least amount of experience in these conditions, which is why I’m pairing you with Sabinus and the
Ninth. Our cavalry and auxiliaries will be crucial in rooting out bands of raiders who, no doubt, will try and wear us down with hit-and-run tactics. However, by the time we reach this point, we hopefully will have goaded our enemies into facing us in open battle. Britannic warriors are very prideful, and the longer we remain in their lands, the greater the blow to their esteem and perceived valor amongst the people. While prudence may dictate holding onto initial gains and then engaging individual tribes one by one, after they’ve gone home for the harvest, I intend to run a highly aggressive campaign. If we brazenly engage a large coalition in open battle and smash them, it will help quell thoughts of further resistance.”

After a few logistical details, Plautius dismissed the men. As the
assembled leaders stood and saluted, Artorius had hoped to have a moment to speak with his friend, Tribune Cursor. However, he was interrupted by Vespasian, who called he and Sempronius over to a secluded corner.

“I wanted to speak with both of you in private,” the legate said. “As you can guess, Plautius is furious with your commander for foregoing this meeting.”

“If I may speak plainly, sir,” Artorius said, “we are still speculating as to how Glabrio ever received command of the legion in the first place.”

Sempronius grimaced, thinking this would lead to a sharp rebuke from Vespasian
.

The general simply snorted and gave a mirthless smile. “From what I gather, he was a favorite of Gaius Caligula,” he said. “And he is a personal friend of the emperor. I doubt that Legate Glabrio is any more enthusiastic about taking part in the invasion than you are having him with you. However, as he still will have a year left on his appointment, none of you have any choice in the matter.”