The Eagles Prey

Narcissus looked directly at the general, who nodded slowly. 'I understand.'

'Good. Then it's time we were honest with each other. Tell me, how do things stand after today's… battle? Assuming Caratacus still lives.'

'If he has escaped then he will need to retire and lick his wounds. I imagine he'll head for some fortification we haven't discovered yet. He'll let his men recover, pick up any stragglers and rearm his forces. He'll also try and recruit more men, and send envoys to the other tribes to win more allies.'

'I see.' Some of the condensation had run off the bottom of Narcissus' cup and he arranged it into a pattern with the tip of his finger. 'Is he likely to win more allies?'

'I doubt it. The man is quite a shrewd political operator, but the record stands against him. We have beaten him time and again. These native warriors are no match for us.'

'So what will he do now?'

'Caratacus will have to adapt his strategy. He can afford only small engagements now, and will limit himself to picking off small garrisons, foraging columns, patrols and so on.'

'All of which will no doubt be a drain on your manpower, and prolong the campaign indefinitely, I suppose?'

'There is that possibility.'

'Not very satisfactory then, my dear General.'

'No.' Plautius reached for the decanter and refilled Narcissus' goblet.

'So, the question is, how did you come to let him escape? You had led me to believe that this battle would be the end of it all. That Caratacus would be dead, or our prisoner by the end of the day. Instead, it seems that he will continue to plague us for months to come. Nothing has changed. The Emperor will not be pleased, to put it mildly. You both have family in Rome?'

It was not really a question, but a statement, a threat, and both the general and the legate stared at him with naked hatred and fear.

'What are you suggesting?' Vespasian asked quietly.

Narcissus leaned back in his chair and interweaved his long elegant fingers.'You have failed here today. There is a price for failure and it must be paid. The Emperor expects it and I must report to him that you have taken the appropriate steps. If you fail to do so here then the price will have to be paid back in

Rome. It's not much of a choice really. So, gentlemen, who fouled up today? Who is to blame for the escape of Caratacus?' The Imperial Secretary looked from man to man. His face was impassive as he waited patiently for a response.

At last the general shrugged.'It's obvious. He escaped across a ford that should have been better guarded. My plan depended on that.' Plautius looked across the table at his subordinate. 'The fault is with the Second Legion.'

Vespasian pressed his lips into a thin line and returned the look with contempt. At the same time his mind raced for a response. He realised at once that his reputation, his career, maybe even his life and those of his family were in danger. The same, of course, applied to the general. Yet Vespasian was wise enough to know that in such circumstances the powerful men who ran Rome would always close ranks and pass the blame on to a more junior figure: someone high enough in rank to serve as a salutary reminder of the cost of failure, but junior enough to be expendable. Someone like Vespasian himself.

For a moment he considered taking the blame and showing that he had more pride and dignity than this general, with his long noble lineage. There was satisfaction to be gained in that. A highly selfish satisfaction, he reflected. In any case, the only real achievement of his sacrifice would be the saving of Plautius' reputation. When it came down to it Vespasian felt that he had more to offer Rome in the long run than this aged and worn out general. Then, in a moment of clarity he was aware that, however one dressed it up, the real issue was self-preservation. It always was. He'd be damned before he let a bunch of smug aristocrats throw him to the dogs to preserve one of their own. He cleared his throat and made sure that his tone was free of any emotion that would betray his bitterness, or fear.

'The enemy was never supposed to have reached this ford. The plan – the general's plan, as I understood it – was that the other three legions and auxiliary cohorts were to close with the enemy quickly enough to force Caratacus against the main crossings, where I would be waiting with the main strength of my legion. The third ford was an afterthought. It was only supposed to be defended against those of the enemy who escaped the battle in front of the first two crossings. It was never expected that they would bear the full weight of Caratacus and his army.'

'It was always a marginal possibility,' Plautius cut in. 'The orders were clear enough. Your men were told to hold the crossings in all circumstances.'

'That was in my orders?' Vespasian raised his eyebrows.

'I'm sure it will be,' Narcissus muttered.'Legate, I take it that you are inferring that the general failed to move with sufficient speed to close the trap?'

'Yes.'

Plautius leaned forward angrily. 'We marched as fast as we could, damn it! Our heavy infantry cannot be expected to outpace native troops. The speed of our troops is not the issue. We had them in a trap and if the Second Legion had done its job properly the trap would have worked perfectly. Vespasian should have made sure that the ford was adequately protected. One cohort was not enough. Any fool could see that.'

'One cohort was ample, for the job it was actually given,' Vespasian snapped back.

For a moment the two senior officers glared at each other, eyes glinting with the wavering reflection of the lamp flames. Then the general eased himself back in his seat and turned to Narcissus.

'I want this man out of my army. He is not competent to command a legion in the field and his insubordination cannot be tolerated.' He turned back towards the legate. 'Vespasian, I want your resignation. I want you out of here, on the first ship back to Gaul.'

'I bet you do,' Vespasian replied coldly.'If I'm not around to defend myself against any charges you bring, it doesn't take a genius to work out the consequences. I refuse to resign my command, and I'll put that in writing.'

Before Plautius could respond Narcissus coughed. 'Gentlemen! That's enough of this. I'm sure the fault is not wholly on one side or the other.'

Both officers turned on him angrily to protest but the Imperial Secretary quickly raised a hand and continued speaking before they could interrupt him. 'Since you are both adamant that the blame lies with the other I fear your testimonies in front of the senate would only serve to destroy you both. Therefore, it seems to me that the best solution is to have an immediate inquiry and find some culpable character lower down the chain of command. If you can make a swift decision and deliver a suitably draconian punishment then I'm sure we can satisfy those back in Rome who demand action in response to your failure.'

Plautius visibly winced at the last word but immediately accepted the lifeline being handed to him and the legate.

'Very well.' Plautius nodded. 'A court of inquiry, then. The legate and I will act as presiding magistrates. At least you'll agree to that, Vespasian?'

'Yes, sir.'

'Then I'll issue the orders at first light. Statements will be taken by all the relevant officers at once. If we move quickly the matter can be solved in a few days. Will that satisfy the Emperor?'

'It will,' Narcissus smiled. 'Trust me. Now, I think we have settled the issue satisfactorily. Neither of you need lose any sleep over this matter. The blame will rest on other shoulders, in place of their heads.' He chuckled at the quip. 'Have your inquiry. Find some plausible men to blame and as soon as judgement has been made I can return to Rome and make my report. Are we in agreement, gentlemen?'

Plautius nodded, and a moment later, his stomach twisted by cold, bitter contempt for the other men, but mostly for himself, Vespasian lowered his head, stared at the silver decanter on the tray, and nodded slowly.