The Eagles Conquest

Chapter Forty-Five

'All ready?' General Plautius glanced round. The last officers were forming up on one side of the route leading from the bridge into the main camp. 'Right then, give the signal.'

Sabinus nodded to the staff tribune in charge of communications, who shouted a quick order to the assembled bucinas and cornicens to ready their brass instruments. A short pause as air was sucked in and lips pursed, then on the mental count of three an ear-splitting note blared out across the river. Despite being battle-trained, the staff horses shied uneasily at the noise and the carefully ordered ranks of senior officers were momentarily disrupted. On the far side of the bridge the brass instruments of the Praetorian Guard cohorts acknowledged the signal.

'Here we go,' Plautius muttered.

The white figures of the front ranks of Praetorians emerged from the other camp and with perfect parade-ground precision they marched out onto the bridge in military step. Highly polished bronze helmets glittered in the bright morning sunshine, in vivid contrast to the dark clouds creeping up from the south. The air was still and humid before the coming storm.

'I do wish they wouldn't march in step,' grumbled the prefect of engineers. 'It's not good for my bridge. Any fool knows that troops should break step when crossing a bridge.'

'And destroy the aesthetic effect?' Vespasian replied. Narcissus wouldn't stand for it. Just pray that he doesn't require the elephants to march in step. The engineer started in alarm at the prospect, then relaxed as he reaised the legate was being ironic. 'The last thing we need is a truncated campaign,' quipped Vitelius and the senior officers winced.

The long white column extended along the bridge like a huge caterpillar,until at length its head reached the north bank and began marching up the slope towards the main gate.

'Eyes…right!' barked out the senior centurion as he led his men past the general and his staff. With neat timing the Praetorians snapped their heads round, while the right-hand markers kept looking ahead to ensure the line stayed properly dressed. General Plautius solemnly saluted as each century marched smartly by.

On the far side of the main gate the rest of the army was formed up ready to advance on the enemy. The Praetorian cohorts would lead the thmst into enemy territory. Their privileged position at the head of the line of march meant that the dust kicked up by the passage of thousands of nailed boots would not choke their throats or soil their brilliant white tunics and shields. At the far end of the bridge a small gap appeared in the column, and then a rippling hedge of scarlet and gold appeared as the a

'Now we'll see how good an engineer you really are,' said Plautius, keenly watching the bridge for the first signs of collapse. To his side the prefect of engineers looked distraught at the possibility of an imperial drenching finding its way onto his curriculum vitae.

The elephants' swaying progress looked peculiar after the stiff regularity of the Praetorian cohorts, and to the prefect's relief the line of huge beasts was totally unsynchronised and the bridge remained stable. Behind the rear elephant a gap opened up. The imperial entourage and their wagons would be travelling with the rest of the baggage train at the rear of the army and would not be setting out for some hours yet.

The last of the standards passed by, and then the Emperor lurched up from the bridge and his elephant driver tapped the elephant on the side of the head to make it stop in front of Plautius and his officers.

'Good morning, Caesar.'

'General.' Claudius nodded. 'N-no problems with the advance, I trust.'

'None, Caesar. Your army is formed up and ready to follow you to a glorious victory.' It was a trite phrase, and Vespasian struggled to keep a mocking expression at bay, but the Emperor seemed to take it at face value.

'Wonderful! Quite w-wonderful! Can't wait to get stuck into those BBB-Britons. Let's give them a stiff dose of R-Roman steel, eh, Plautius!'

'Well, yes, quite, Caesar.'

The last of the elephants halted, and Narcissus rode up. He was perched on the back of a small pony that flinched nervously as one of the elephants lifted its tail and deposited a small mound directly in its path. The chief secretary quickly negotiated the distasteful obstacle and trotted up to the side of his master's beast.

'Ah: There you are, Narcissus. About time. I'll transfer to my litter now. '

'Are you sure, Caesar? Think of the heroic image you cast up there on such a magnificent beast. A veritable god leading his men into war! How inspiring it'll look to the men!'

'Not when this st-st-stupid animal makes me throw up, it won't. Driver! Get this animal down, right now.'

After his last experience of disembarking from an elephant, Claudius gripped the sides of his throne tightly and leaned back as far as he could when the elephant's front legs folded. Safely back on terra firma, the Emperor gazed at the elephant with disapproval.

'Quite how that scoundrel Ha

'Yes, Caesar. I'll have it fetched from the baggage train.'

'What is it doing back there?'

'You ordered it, Caesar. You may recall that you had intended to lead the advance on the back of an elephant.'

'Oh?'

'You wanted to "out-Ha

'Hmmm. Yes. Well, that was yesterday. Besides,' Claudius waved a hand to the south, 'I don't fancy being stuck on an e-e-elephant when that lot breaks.'

Narcissus turned to look at the black clouds rolling in towards the Tamesis. A flicker of white light illuminated them from within and moments later a deep rumble echoed towards the Roman camp.

'The litter please, Narcissus. Quick as you can.'

'At once, Caesar.'

While the chief secretary hurriedly passed the instruction on, the Emperor stood and watched the approaching storm with a frown, as if his displeasure might ward it off. A jagged white line stabbed down in the marshland a short distance upriver and the air was split by a terrible sound like tearing metal.

Sabinus manoeuvred his horse alongside his brother.

'Bloody typical,' he said quietly. 'We sit on our arses for the best part of two months waiting for the Emperor in glorious sunshine, and the moment we get back on the offensive we're hit by a storm.'

Vespasian let out a low, bitter chuckle and nodded. 'And no hope of us sitting the storm out, I suppose.'

'None, brother. There's too much riding on this campaign, and Claudius dare not be absent from Rome any longer than absolutely necessary. The advance goes ahead whatever the weather.'

'Oh shit.' Vespasian had felt a splash on his hand. Then came a soft pattering of heavy raindrops on helmets and shields. Across the wide surface of the Tamesis a belt of grey swept towards the north bank. Suddenly the downpour began in earnest, hissing through the air and drumming down on every surface. A light breeze picked up with the rain, tossing the branches in nearby copses and stirring the heavy military cloaks of the officers as they hurriedly pulled them round their bodies. Claudius looked up at the sky just as lightning burst upon the world in a dazzling sheet of white light and froze the angry expression on his face for the briefest of moments.

'Do you think this might be an omen'?' Sabinus asked half seriously.

'What kind of an omen'?'

'A warning from the gods. A warning about the outcome of this campaign perhaps.'

'Or a warning to Claudius'?' Vespasian turned to exchange a knowing look with his older brother.