Colleen McCullough - 5. Caesar

Very well fortified and defended particularly now that Ahenobarbus had arrived to swell its naval and military resources Massilia held out easily against Caesar's land blockade because it still dominated the seas. Its granaries were full, perishable foods were brought in by water, and so confident of Caesar's inability to win were the other Greek colonies along the Province coast that they hastened to supply Massilia. "I wonder why it is that none of them think I can beat a tired old man like Pompeius?" asked Caesar of Trebonius at the end of May. "The Greeks have never been good judges of generals," said Trebonius. "They don't know you. Pompeius is an enduring legend because of his campaign against the pirates, I think. This entire coast sampled his activities and talents at that time." "My conquest of Gallia Comata wasn't very far away." "Yes, Caesar, but they're Greeks! Greeks never have warred with barbarians; they've always preferred to enclose themselves in coastal cities and avoid the barbarian inland. That's as true of their colonies in the Euxine as it is in Our Sea." "Well, they are about to learn that they've backed the wrong side," said Caesar, nettled. "I'm leaving for Narbo in the morning. Decimus ought to be on his way back with a fleet. He's in charge on the sea, but you're in overall command. Push them hard and don't give too much quarter, Trebonius. I want Massilia humbled." "How many legions?" "I'll leave you the Twelfth and the Thirteenth. Mamurra tells me there's a new Sixth freshly recruited in Italian Gaul I've instructed him to send it to you. Train it, and if possible blood it. Far better to blood it on Greeks than Romans. Though actually that's one of my great advantages in this war." "What?" asked Trebonius, bewildered. "My men are from Italian Gaul, and a great many of them from across the Padus. Pompeius's soldiers are properly Italian save for the Fifteenth. I realize Italians look down on Italian Gauls, but Italian Gauls absolutely loathe Italians. No brotherly love." "Come to think of it, a good point."

Lucius Caesar had gone native, regarded Narbo as his home; when Cousin Gaius arrived at the head of four legions the Ninth, the beloved Tenth, the Eighth and the Eleventh he found the Province's governor so well ensconced that he had three mistresses, a brace of superb cooks and the love of all of Narbo. "Have my cavalry arrived?" Caesar asked, eating with relish for once. "Oh, I had forgotten how deliciously light and tasty how digestible the dug-mullets of Narbo are!" "That," said Lucius Caesar smugly, "is because I've taken to doing them the Gallic way fried in butter rather than in oil. Oil's too strong. The butter comes from the lands of the Veneti." "You've degenerated into a Sybarite." "But kept my figure." "A family trait, I suspect. The cavalry?" "All three thousand you called up by name are here, Gaius. I decided to pasture them south of Narbo around the mouth of the Ruscino. On your way, so to speak." "I gather Fabius is sitting at Illerda." "With the Seventh and the Fourteenth, yes. I sent several thousand Narbonese militia with him to force passage across the Pyrenees, but when you reach him I'd appreciate your returning them. They're good and loyal, but not citizens." "And are Afranius and Petreius still facing him?" "Across the Sicoris River. With five legions. The other two are still in Further Spain with Varro." Lucius Caesar grinned. "Varro isn't quite as confident as everyone else that you'll lose, so he hasn't done much to bestir himself. They've been spending a cozy winter in Corduba." "A long march from Illerda." "Precisely. I think all you have to worry about are the five legions with Afranius and Petreius. Do try the oysters." "No, I prefer the dug-mullets. How clever of your cook to bone them so thoroughly." "An easy fish to bone, as a matter of fact. They're so flat." Lucius Caesar looked up. "What you may not know," he said, "is that Pompeius sent from Epirus and borrowed heavily from the men of his Spanish legions. They gave him everything they had and agreed to waive pay until you're defeated." "Ah! Pompeius is feeling the pinch." "He deserves to, forgetting to empty the Treasury." Caesar's shoulders shook with silent laughter. "He'll never manage to live that down, Lucius." "I hear my son has elected Pompeius." "I'm afraid so." "He never was very bright." "Speaking of brightness, I met a remarkable member of the family in Formiae," said Caesar, transferring his attention to the cheeses. "All of thirteen years old." "Who's that?"

"Atia's son by Gaius Octavius." "Another Gaius Julius Caesar in the making?" "He says not. No military talent, he informed me. A very cold fish, but a very bright one." "He's not tempted to espouse Philippus's life style?" "I saw no evidence of it. What I did see was huge ambition and considerable shrewdness." "That branch of the Octavii have never had a consul." "They will in my great-nephew," said Caesar positively.

Caesar arrived to reinforce Gaius Fabius toward the end of June, bringing the strength of his forces up to six legions; the Narbonese militia were thanked and sent home. "Lucius Caesar told you that Pompeius has borrowed this army's savings?" asked Gaius Fabius. "He did. Which means they have to win, doesn't it?" "So they think. Afranius and Petreius were bitten too." "Then we'd better reduce them to penury." But it seemed that Caesar's fabled luck was out. The winter dissipated early in continuous downpours which extended into the high Pyrenees and brought a spate down the Sicoris which knocked out every bridge across it. A problem for Caesar, who had to bring his supplies over those bridges. A narrow but fast-flowing stream even when not in flood, the Sicoris continued to defy the new arrivals; when finally its level dropped, the presence of Afranius and Petreius on its far side prevented rebuilding of the bridges. The rain persisted, camp was a misery, food was low. "All right, boys," said Caesar at assembly, "we're going to have to do it the hard way." The hard way was to slog with two legions twenty miles upstream, mired to the ankles in mud, and there throw up a bridge without the knowledge of the Pompeians. Once this was done, food flowed in again even if camp was no drier. "And that," said Caesar to Fabius, "is what Caesar's luck really consists of hard work. Now we sit through the rains and wait for fine weather." Of course the couriers galloped between Rome and Caesar's camp, between Massilia and Caesar's camp; Caesar never liked to be more than two nundinae behind events. Among the many letters from Rome came one from Mark Antony, carried very swiftly.

The word in Rome is that you're stuck, Caesar. All the Sicoris bridges out, and no food. When certain senators heard, they staged a joyful celebration outside Afranius's house on the Aventine. Lepidus and I thought it might be amusing to watch, so we went along no, I didn't need to cross the pomerium! They had singers, dancers, tumblers, a couple of rather horrible freaks, and plenty of shrimps and oysters from Baiae. Between ourselves, Lepidus and I thought it a bit premature. By now, we think, you will have solved your supply problems and be dealing with the Pompeians. One further effect of this news that you were in serious trouble concerns the Senate; the celebration concluded, all the waverers about forty, all told departed for Pompeius in eastern Macedonia. I believe that when they get there, these anxious-to-be-on-the-right-side senators will not suffer any deprivations in the field. Pompeius has taken up residence in the governor's palace at Thessalonica, and they're all living mighty high. Neither Lepidus nor I prevented this mass exodus, in which I hope we did right. Our assumption was that you're better off without these creatures in Italia let Pompeius have the joy of them. By the way, I let Cicero leave too. His noises of opposition didn't diminish, and he didn't care much for my style of governing. I've got this terrific chariot drawn by four lions, and made a show of driving it whenever I was in Cicero's neighborhood. Truth to tell, Caesar, it's a pain in the podex. I had male lions with black manes huge and very imposing animals. But they refused to work. Lazy! Every two paces they'd flop down and go to sleep. I had to substitute females. Even so, lions do not make good chariot pullers. Which makes me skeptical about Dionysos and his car drawn by leopards. Cicero left from Caieta about the Nones of June, but not with brother Quintus. As you well know, Quintus's son is minded to side with you. Been listening to tata, I suspect. Both brother Quintus and nephew Quintus elected to stay in Italia, though for how long remains a mystery. Cicero is playing on family feelings. Full of moans right up to his departure. His eyes were in a shocking mess when I saw him at the beginning of May. I know you wanted him to stay here, but he's better gone. He's too incompetent to make any difference to Pompeius's chances of success (which I rate very low), and he'll never come round to your way of thinking. A voice like his is better removed to someplace it can't be heard. His boy, Marcus, went too. Tullia, by the way, gave birth to a seven-months child in May a boy. But it died on the same day in June that old Perperna died. Fancy that! The senior senator and senior consular. Still, if I live to be ninety-eight, I'll be happy.