‘There’s room for more than one pair on the general’s anvil.’
*
The inevitable delay of one day after the battle forced Plautius to drive his army on as fast as possible and the march west was an arduous affair for the weary legionaries. The going, however, was easy, over gently undulating farmland that, with the VIIII Hispana so close behind, Caratacus had mainly left untouched. It was through fields of ripening wheat and barley or arable land that the column made its way and not a landscape blackened and destroyed by a retreating army intent upon denying its pursuer the ability to forage.
The morning of the second day saw them descending a hill into a basin through which the Tamesis, now just a mile to the north, wound in a ponderous, looping fashion, forcing the part of the fleet shadowing their advance to row harder in order to keep pace with the column.
In the distance, five miles or so to the west, Vespasian could see the ships that had supported Corvinus’ advance, bobbing at anchor at what he guessed must be the Tamesis ford. He knew that his hoodwinking of Plautius could not go undetected for much longer. A smudge on the horizon, well to the north of the river, caught his eye and he pulled his horse to one side, allowing the men of the first cohort to tramp past, as he scrutinised it carefully. After a few moments’ deliberation, chewing on his bottom lip, he turned his mount and headed back down the column.
‘Take command, tribune,’ he shouted at Mucianus, at the head of the second cohort, as he sped past. ‘And keep the pace up. I need to report to the general.’
Galloping past the ranks and ranks of marching legionaries he eventually came to the legions’ six hundred pack-mules, one for each contubernium, and the wagons and artillery belonging to each century. Behind these rode the army’s command group, just ahead of the XIIII Gemina.
Vespasian slowed his horse and drew a deep breath as he approached Plautius. ‘General, I need to speak to you urgently and in private.’
‘He’s done what!’ Plautius exploded.
‘Carried on towards Camulodunum, sir.’
‘What makes you so sure?’
Vespasian pointed to the north. ‘Look at the horizon over there; what do you see?’
Plautius squinted. ‘I’m afraid that my eyes aren’t as good as they used to be; what is it, legate?’
‘Smoke, sir, a lot of it.’
‘That doesn’t mean that it’s Corvinus.’
‘Corvinus never stopped, he never intended to.’
‘But that’s miles from the ford; how did he get there so quickly? Your report last night said that he had built a camp on the north bank by the ford.’
‘That wasn’t true, sir.’
Plautius glared at Vespasian, outraged. ‘If you’re telling me that you knew about this all along and covered it up then that’s treason, legate.’
‘I know, sir; but if I had told you earlier then that could have been construed as treason as well.’
‘Vespasian, I fail to see how preventing Corvinus from going against the Emperor’s explicit orders can be seen as treason.’
‘Because they’re not the Emperor’s orders, they were given only in his name. The Emperor doesn’t rule, he’s just seen to be ruling; the real power is-’
‘Don’t patronise me! I know who the real power is, but it comes to the same thing: Narcissus speaks for the Emperor.’
‘No, sir, that’s not true; Narcissus speaks for himself but from within the Emperor’s shadow. In fact, he is his shadow. He uses Claudius in order to wield the power that he couldn’t be seen using in the full light of day and he guards him jealously in order to hang on to that power. But because the Emperor is a cuntstruck fool he doesn’t see — or won’t believe — the threat to his position from within his inner circle.’
‘The Empress?’
‘Exactly.’
‘But she’s nothing without him.’
‘Not so; she’s the mother of the Emperor’s son.’
‘But he’s too young to rule without a regent and no one would accept a woman in that position.’
‘Granted, but they would accept a man and a woman, the mother of the young Emperor and her brother.’
Plautius’ eyes widened in comprehension. ‘That woman being the mother of a true Caesar and the man being the conqueror of Camulodunum and the founder of the new province of Britannia; a couple who couldn’t start their own dynasty because they are siblings and therefore are no threat to the Emperor’s line but, rather, the guardians of it. Perfect, until something happens to the child, at which point the regents are secure enough in their positions for the Guard to continue in their support.’
‘Exactly, and we know that the imperial family are capable of anything; Claudius’ sister, Livilla, was already poisoning her son, Tiberius Gemellus, before she in turn was starved to death by her mother, Antonia. If anyone should realise what is possible it should be Claudius; but the fool can’t be made to listen.’
‘So therefore he must be made to see.’ Plautius touched his hand to his forehead and closed his eyes. ‘Oh, I see it now. That bastard Narcissus manoeuvred me into giving Corvinus the opportunity to disobey the Emperor so that I would be the one to expose the plot to Claudius, along with the hard evidence to convince him that his brother-in-law and wife are moving against him. You did right not to tell me until Corvinus had made contact with the enemy, Vespasian, I would have stopped him before he damned himself.’
‘No, he would have killed you. In fact I believe that you would be dead now if Geta hadn’t got himself wounded.’
‘Geta!’
‘Yes, I think that he was meant to have you killed in a way that wouldn’t look suspicious.’
‘Like leading his cavalry into an impossible position just in front of me.’
‘That seems a little extreme, sir; after all, he nearly got himself killed doing that.’
‘Only through bad luck. I had that decurion brought to me after I saw Geta yesterday because I couldn’t believe that someone with Geta’s experience would have made such a stupid mistake through “fired-up enthusiasm”, as he put it. The decurion told me that Geta wasn’t leading them, he was right in the middle of the unit as safe as he could be, which I found very strange. But now, looking back at it, think of the timing. I’d come up the hill to recall you, then, when I’m just a few hundred paces away Geta suddenly takes his men into a mass of retreating and pissed-off Britons knowing full well that I would try and save them because I’ve so few mounted troops. I charge in, taking you and your lads with me, and could well have been killed and no one would have suspected a thing. As it was I was so angry at the situation that nothing could stop me. We broke through to Geta’s men, as he knew we would, but, unfortunately for him, not before a stray spear dismounted him and he got trampled upon. The little arsehole deserves it; forty of his lads killed for nothing.’
‘That would explain it, I suppose.’
‘Too fucking right it explains it. I’ll have that bastard when he’s recovered. Why didn’t you tell me that they were going to try and kill me?’
‘Narcissus would have seen me dead.’
Plautius gave a mirthless smile. ‘Well, Narcissus will see us both dead if we don’t stop Corvinus now. How do you halt a rogue legion without bringing it to battle and causing the invasion to collapse?’
‘Narcissus has already thought of that; I can do it with just Paetus’ cavalry and my brother.’
Plautius looked at Vespasian quizzically. ‘Very well,’ he said after a few moments, ‘I suppose I have to trust you seeing as you seem to understand Narcissus’ mind. Take what you need — and hurry. I’ll be close behind you; I’ll try and get two legions across the river at low tide later this afternoon. Now that Corvinus has started hostilities in the north I’m forced to finish off what the treacherous little sod started; not to do so would be seen as weakness by the Britons. It may be that Claudius won’t have a battle left to fight after all.’
‘So long as he can be the first to enter Camulodunum, it might not be such a bad thing, general.’