"Yes, they are," Vitellius grunted. He paused, then added, "Vibius was reasonably impressed with what he heard of your performance outside the temple. ."
"Good," Gaius said, with a touch of self-satisfaction.
"By showing a little courage and enough ability not to let the situation get out of hand," Vitellius continued, ignoring the interruption, "he and the men have concluded, at least for the time being, that you're not just another rich pansy sent to blight their lives." He paused, and noted this time Gaius remained quiet. "Well, since you're so keen on interrupting, presumably you have something to say?" he added harshly.
"I apologize for interrupting," Gaius replied, then after a slight pause, and when he noticed Vitellius was looking for something further, Gaius added, "I can see why he would think that, but. ."
"Most successful Governors and Generals start the way you are starting," Vitellius interposed, "but so do a lot of young fools that have to be sorted out right away." He paused, grinned a little, and challenged, "Your but. ?"
"I've had a start he hasn't," Gaius replied, "but then again, as an equestrian, he's had a start others in the ranks don't get either. I see no point in throwing away my. ."
"Nor should you!" Vitellius interposed.
"So we have to accept the system," Gaius shrugged.
"Only to a point," Vitellius grunted. "You can make it work better. Try being a bit more friendly to Vibius. I know," Vitellius held up his hand to stop the interruption, "he's got a chip on his shoulder, but it's your responsibility, being the senior, to try to get around that."
"I'll try," Gaius replied.
"Even better, do it! That's an order."
Chapter 29
Gaius knew that he had to be seen to be doing something, rather than be seen as someone sitting in a tent or riding about on a horse. Somehow the men had to know he was going to do his job. The trouble was, how to do this? The only obvious way was to maintain a high level of drills and exercises. The soldiers under his command would groan more than a little at the continual marching but that was a lot better than having them sitting on their backsides in barracks, which was what too many of the others were doing, thanks to that drunken Legatus. And if he was to order drills, it was important that he was seen to be participating, rather than sitting on his own backside.
He was wandering through the training ground for new recruits, looking for any opportunity to do something, when he saw a newly promoted Centurion struggling to control himself as a young trainee was flailing a practice sword, rather than carrying out the correct striking drill.
"Got a problem?" Gaius commented to the Centurion.
"Nothing that can't be corrected, sir."
"Of course," Gaius nodded. "Mind if I try?"
"Help yourself." The Centurion was not terribly impressed by the willing but incompetent upper class and he was more than half afraid this exercise would do nothing but make discipline more difficult, however if he wished to impose discipline, he could hardly ignore the commands of a senior officer.
"You!" Gaius coldly addressed the young soldier. "Face me!" He paused, then pointed at two recruits. "You two, stand beside him, one on each side, while he carries out whatever he thought he was doing." He turned towards the Centurion, and said, "Practice sword and shield, please."
He took the lead-tipped wooden sword and gave it a flourish. He turned back towards the young man, who now had the other two standing beside him, at sufficient distance they would not be struck by his sword. "You think that's appropriate?"
The recruit said nothing.
"You two," he ordered the others, "no matter what happens, you will stay facing forwards towards the enemy as if you were fighting. You! Prove it! Defend your line!"
"What?"
Just as the young man spoke, Gaius rushed forward, then paused as the young man swung. As the swing passed and the soldier on his left gave a startled jerk to one side. Gaius then leaped forward and crashed his shield into the young man, who was now slightly off balance, then with considerable force drove the wooden sword into the young man's diaphragm. As the young man collapsed backwards onto the ground and was struggling to breathe, Gaius pushed his boot into the man's stomach to keep him down, then he stepped across and lightly back-stabbed the man on his left, then, after again using the fallen man as a launching pad, back-stabbed the other.
"You," Gaius explained to the man on the ground, "are dead. The men on each side of you, who were relying on you to hold the line and had to face forward because that's where the enemy are, are also dead. Thanks to your antics, the enemy have started to punch a hole in the line, and unless your Centurion does something very quickly, half your century'll be dead in a matter of minutes. You have something to say?"
The young man said nothing, as he lay gasping in the dust. The Centurion was watching with a smile, partly of disbelief, partly of relief, and partly at the face of the young man lying on the ground, still under the boot of the Tribune.
"You men!" Gaius addressed the other trainees. "You will fight battles exactly as you carry out these drills, and you will drill as you carry out real battles. You may not care whether you live, but the man beside you may. Also, you may fight under me, and I most certainly do care whether I live, so you will learn discipline, and you will learn your drills so you do them in your sleep. When the drills are automatic, you win in battle. Centurion," he said more quietly, but loudly enough that most could hear. "These men look far too soft. The arms need strengthening, so I suggest rock drill after this."
"Yes sir!" the Centurion replied. The Centurion was clearly surprised. Under the current Legate, training was reasonably light, and nobody bothered to check. Here was the youngest Tribune already pushing some of the more rigorous aspects of training. This was unexpected but if that was what was wanted, it was the Centurion's job to provide it.
"Ensure they have plenty of water and leave it until later in the afternoon," Gaius continued. "It's to strengthen, not punish, although of course that comment should not prevent your exercising certain options if you are having trouble with them."
And so, later in the afternoon, only the new recruits associated with the first cohort were marching around the parade ground carrying packs stuffed with rocks high above their heads.
Vibius noted this training, and approached Gaius.
"You think that's necessary?" he asked curiously.
"I'll tell you what," Gaius replied. "Why don't we have a contest in six weeks? Your recruits against mine?"
Vibius accepted, then Vitellius heard about it, and ordered the contest across all cohorts. Although the first cohort had twice the number of soldiers, it had fewer new recruits, as it had the right to acquire more experienced soldiers from other cohorts or other legions.
"And so," Gaius informed the recruits, "you will have to train even harder to do even more work!"
After two weeks of quite exhausting drills, the recruits of the first still had to dig their trenches, and pile the rock and dirt above it as the Roman soldier did every day on march. When they were finished, they were lined up on the top of their mound, and given practice swords and shields. Then, up came an equal number of volunteer veterans that Gaius had arranged. They were similarly armed, and with broad grins they lined up before the recruits.
"You are to defend your line," Gaius said to the recruits, "while the others try to dislodge you. The veterans will advance, now."
The shields of the veterans closed up, and they began to march forward, then up the slope. The recruits tried to defend, but in no time were pushed back, and within ten seconds all but two at the end of the line were lying in their own trench, with the veterans showering them with dirt.