Ian Miller - Legatus Legionis

More men approached, this time with shields held together to protect those with the trunk. Gaius could see that there was little hope of delaying the opponents much longer, so he ordered no arrows to be fired. Slowly the burning cart began to move, then it disintegrated with a huge shower of sparks, flames, and extra heat.

"Inside ten minutes they'll start crossing," Gaius said calmly. "Once they're off the bridge, that's it. It's nearly time for the horses."

Eight minutes later the first man braved the fire to dash through, to be caught by an arrow. Then more men.

"Go!" Gaius roared. They let off their last arrows, and scrambled towards the horses. Gaius noticed one man seemed to be more important than the rest. He took quick aim, fired, then scrambled for the remaining horse.

When the horses reached the forest track Gaius ordered them to slow.

"They won't get horses through that fire for another few minutes," he said. "If we don't break horses's legs, we're safe."

They were safer than he expected. Ahead he could hear horses: a cavalry detachment from Lussonium. The raiders should have just about cleared the bridge for horse traffic by the time the cavalry arrived. The party slowed, and moved to one side of the track.

Gaius had originally intended to arrive at Lussonium as inconspicuously as possible. That was no longer possible, and a crowd of civilian spectators and some soldiers greeted them. Eventually he found the military headquarters, and presented himself.

"You had a spot of bother?" the previous commander smiled.

"Yes, and I still have," Gaius admitted. "I am supposed to present myself to take up position as Legatus but my papers and most of my other belongings are on my cart that was used to bring back wounded, or maybe even thrown off the cart to make room, and I can't find the cart."

"I'll arrange for the Centurion who was with you to organize a party to go and retrieve any property. Tell me something about yourself? The names of your family, the name of the chief steward on your ranch, say."

Gaius obliged.

"This tent is yours!" the ex-Legate said. "I'm not sorry to be returning to Rome."

"I could be the wrong person," Gaius pointed out.

"You could," he replied, "but it appears you know how to command and fight."

"I presume this legion has the job of stopping those sort of raids?" Gaius remarked. "Have we any information on who did that?"

"My men. ." He paused and corrected himself, "Your men, sorry, will have prisoners. We shall find out where they came from, but I can tell you now. The other side of the Danube."

"We need boats. Have we any?"

"You in some sort of a hurry?"

"Winter's coming," Gaius replied. "Once it is well established it will be difficult to mount an expedition, and I feel that once word of the circumstances of my arrival filters through, lack of action might encourage further raids."

"You don't want to be viewed as a weak commander?"

"No, I don't, and it is also desirable," Gaius acknowledged ruefully, "that the Princeps hears of missions accomplished rather than complaints about inactivity."

"But not missions failed."

"It may not be desirable to return from an abject failure," Gaius nodded, then with a grin, added, "so your comfortable future may be a little further off than you wish."

"My men won't fail so you'd better not. And remember, you'll have to clear it with Governor Plautius first," the ex-Legate warned.

"Any advice you can offer on that would be welcomed." Gaius began to realize that those on the other side of the Danube might not be his only problem.

"He's a very cautious man," the ex-Legate said, after a moment's pause, "not that I would want that spread about."

"Any advice stays between the two of us," Gaius assured him.

"It may be hard to persuade him to show aggression," the ex-Legate offered. "On the other hand, if you can get on the right side of him, he's very well connected. One of his ancestors' cousins was a friend of the delightful Livia, and said cousin was the mother of Plautia Urgulanilla. ."

"Which gets you rather close to the Imperial family," Gaius nodded, as he suddenly realized the significance of the 'Plautia'.

"Exactly, and there's more. His wife, Pomponia Graecina, comes from a very illustrious family, which includes Vipsania Agrippina. ."

"Tiberius' wife?" Gaius asked.

"The same."

"I see," Gaius said slowly. A cautious man who could break him, and a Princeps who wanted things to happen. Not exactly a good mix. "Nevertheless, at the very least I need to be able to advise Governor Plautius that at least I know how to carry out a raid. Have we got boats?"

"We'll have those that brought that lot over, and you can get more."

"I shall inform the Tribunes I'm planning a retaliatory attack and I'll want all logistics information at their fingertips. Then I'll have to work out a way to get to meet Governor Plautius."

"Then tune up your social graces," the ex-Legate smiled. "You've got a dinner invitation for tonight. One of the more influential Roman families."

"I look forward to it," Gaius said formally, if not entirely truthfully.

"I suspected as much," the ex-Legate said with a condescending smile. "Governor Plautius will be there, and I'm sure he will be interested to meet his new military firebrand!"

* * *

The cart was soon found, and Gaius was pleased to see that all his valuables were still present. With nothing much else to do for the afternoon, he set about enquiring about smiths: who was available, who was skilled, and where were they? There was a choice of two, so he selected the one he felt was most suitable and introduced himself and Timothy to him. A good number of sesterces had the man's interest, and he assured Gaius that he would be able to cast something out of bronze that would follow Gaius' diagrams.

* * *

Gaius nodded at the doorman, and stepped forward. Formal dress was not his strong suit. The toga was an item of clothing that could either look highly formal and convey great wisdom and dignity, or look like a long sheet of cloth that had been thrown over the body. Somehow, it always seemed to look like the latter on him. He also had to overcome the feeling that he should adjust it from time to time. Somehow, it never felt right. On the other hand, other men were not continually fiddling with their togas, probably because they had the knack of wearing them properly.

He had to forget about this wretched toga. There was the host, and accompanied by a very beautiful woman. The woman from the bridge. Young enough to be the host's daughter, and from the facial likeness, she probably was.

"Gaius Claudius Scaevola," he introduced himself.

"The Princeps mentioned you," the man nodded. "I am Publius Valerius Messala."

"You get on well with the Princeps ?" Gaius asked politely.

The man stared at him, then laughed bitterly and said, "You survive with Little Boots, as I thought you might have gathered."

"I've heard rumours," Gaius replied stiffly.

"Well put, young Claudius," the man nodded. "Oh, my daughter, Valeria Vipsania. I gather you've met."

"I've met him," Vipsania responded calmly. "He ignored me."

Gaius stared at her, and gasped. She was incredibly beautiful, or at least he thought so. And then a sudden thought struck him. The prophecy! She was the most beautiful woman he had ever met, and he had really ignored her. That left. . the ugliest one of all!

"He did have other things on his mind," her father said calmly. "There was a defence to organize."

"He did that with remarkable efficiency," Vipsania said, "and even made spare time. And guess what he would rather do in that spare time than talk to me?"