S. Turney - Gallia Invicta

(December: Octodurus, in the Alpine passes above Geneva)

‘It is the third day before the nones of December and we are feeling the first morsel of security in months. On the orders of the general I left Titus Labienus and his command at Nemetocenna and brought the depleted Twelfth Legion into the mountains above Cisalpine Gaul, a territory only nominally Roman, plagued with bandits and antagonistic Celts, in order to secure a trade route across the mountains.

Our task has not been an easy one. Indeed, this is the first time I have had the leisure and reason to make report.

Upon arrival in these unforgiving valleys, once we had departed from friendly territory and lost sight of the Geneva Lake, we immediately encountered opposition in the form of the Nantuates. It causes me to shake my head in wonder when I remember that these men were raw recruits less than two years ago, hastily trained and armed for campaigning in the very lands that we once again occupy. Two years of brutal warfare against Gauls, Belgae and Germans have left me with tough, if relatively inexperienced, men at every level, but all too few of them. By the time we had reached Geneva we had lost another fifty men or more of our already woefully understaffed legion to their wounds and the increasing cold of the mountains.

Despite promises of reinforcements from Cisalpine Gaul, we have seen or heard no sign of relief and have carried out the orders to take and hold this vital mercantile pass with a legion so diminished we would not be able to form three complete cohorts, let alone the full ten. Our numbers are down to a little over seven hundred, including my officers, some of whom have only been soldiering for two years, due to the high death toll last year and this small but costly campaign. Even with the cavalry ala that accompanied us, we are terribly reduced.

And yet we have fought on for more than two months. The valiant and rapidly diminishing Twelfth have pushed back and contained the Nantuates, reducing three of their fortresses to ash and rubble, have forced the Seduni back deep into their lands and reduced their strength, and lastly stormed the main strongholds of the Veragri, breaking the greater part of local resistance. Only three days ago did we stop for the first time to take account of our accomplishments.

The three tribes we have subdued here sent emissaries seeking peace and I have never been more pleased to be able to grant a request. Our men were close to breaking through exhaustion, numbing cold and the unsettling odds. But we have agreed terms with them all. The Seduni, who are the most distant of the three, have sent us hostages as a sign of faith. The Nantuates have done the same, but there was something about the way they spoke that has left me unsure of their fidelity and so I settled three centuries of men, which was all I can truly spare, among the Nantuates under a veteran centurion with orders to fortify and keep in contact with riders.

I then brought the rest of the army to the centre of this hornet nest: the town of Octodurus in Veragri territory. Here we are fortifying our own position and preparing to send out patrols and set up a line of signal stations in both directions across the pass, to the north through our garrison among the Nantuates down to the fort at Pennelucos by the lake and to the south as far as the fort at Eporedia in Cisalpine Gaul.

It is my dearest hope that within a few weeks we will be settled, fortified and beginning to trade and work with the local tribes rather than having to watch them for signs of trouble and increased banditry. When we have signal towers and watch stations we will be in a position to say that the pass is truly safe for merchants, but at this time I would still strongly discourage any civilian from trying the route, even with armed escorts. It will be some weeks at the least before we can claim the pass is safe. Indeed, I still feel uneasy in myself; a sentiment that is echoed among the men, though they try not to show it.

I will make further report when we have the signal system in place and have set up good lines of trade and communication.

While I do not wish to speak out of turn, I would urgently request that emissaries are sent to Caesar in Rome or Illyricum, wherever he may be, with a request for reinforcements. Without them, the Twelfth remains in dire straits throughout this damned winter.

My courier and his escort will need food and shelter upon receipt of this report and will stand by to return to Octodurus with a reply at your earliest convenience.

For the senate and the people of Rome.

Servius Sulpicius Galba, legatus of the Twelfth Legion.’

Galba furrowed his brow as he re-read the last paragraphs for the fourth time. It was delicate. With the general away involved in politics either in Rome or across the sea, their closest senior contact was the camp prefect of the Tenth’s garrison fortress at Cremona. While Galba theoretically outranked the man, Piso was the de facto senior commander in the whole province of Cisalpine Gaul and therefore the immediate step between Galba and the general.

To suggest that the general had been neglectful or deficient in some way in not providing the troops that he had promised almost half a year ago would not be, Galba was sure, a good career move. Still, something had to be done. The Twelfth barely had enough men to keep Octodurus quiet, let alone the entire pass that led from the eastern end of the Geneva Lake all the way across the Alps and down to Eporedia in Roman territory.

With a sigh, he nodded at the last few lines, his mouth turning up at the corner as he noted once again ‘For the senate and the people of Rome’ when the whole campaign was clearly ‘for the glory and purse of the great Caesar’. Fronto may be an outspoken lunatic with plebeian tendencies, but there were times he nailed the general to the wall with a well chosen description.

“Shame I couldn’t get away with that…”

“I’m sorry sir?”

Galba blinked. He’d forgotten the cavalry decurion was there.

“Oh, nothing. Just talking to myself.”

Taking a breath, he snapped the wood-encased tablet shut and sealed it with the wax from one of the three candles that lit the room’s murky interior, plunging the seal of the Twelfth’s commander into the liquid and watching it harden instantly. For a moment, he frowned down at the mark of the bull with the XII and sighed. If they didn’t get more men soon, this letter may be the last time that seal was ever used. Shaking the gloomy thoughts from his head, he reached up and passed the tablet to the cavalry officer.

“This goes into the hands of Prefect Piso at Cremona and no other. Do not be fobbed off at the gate with a promise to deliver it. Understand?”