The Eagles Conquest

'Do you really think it is'?'

'Maybe. Or it might just be a sign from the gods that it's going to piss down for a few days.'

Sabinus' disapproval of this casual mocking of superstition was evident in his frown. Vespasian shrugged and turned back to watch the Emperor who was shouting something at the heavens. His words were drowned out by the crash of thunder and the slashing of rain. The elephants were jostling against each other nervously despite the best efforts of their drivers and the agitation of these vast animals was begi

'Get them out of here!' Plautius shouted out to the drivers. 'Get them away from the road! Quick! Before you lose control of them!'

The elephant drivers saw the danger and frantically kicked their heels and beat at the grey wrinkled domes of their elephants' heads until the beasts lumbered off the track and made for the edge of the river, huddled together away from the bridge.

Claudius gave up berating the gods and made his way across the track towards the mounted officers.

'Where's my b-bloody litter'?'

'Coming, Caesar,' replied Narcissus, pointing back down the bridge to where a dozen slaves were jogging across with a large gilded two-seater. By the time the litter reached the near bank, the track was ru

'About time!' Claudius was drenched, his thi

'Yes, Caesar?'

'Get things moving! This army's g-going on the offensive, come rain or sunshine. S-s-see to it!'

'Caesar!'

With a quick wave Plautius signalled to his assembled officers, who turned their horses and in a rough column headed back to their units to prepare for the advance. Sabinus continued to ride alongside his younger brother, head tucked down into the folds of his cloak. The ceremonial crest of his helmet was soaked and drooped sadly from its holding bracket. Around them the rain thrashed down, accompanied by frequent brilliant flashes followed by darkness and ear-splitting thunder that made the very earth tremble. It was hard not to see the fact that the storm had broken just as the army was breaking camp as a sign from the gods that they disapproved of the advance on Camulodunum. However, the army's priests had read the entrails at first light, and the ground had freely yielded the standards when the legion's colour parties had collected them from the standards' sanctuary. Despite these conflicting signs of divine favour, Claudius had nevertheless ordered the army to advance according to the strategy he had outlined to his senior officers. Sabinus was apprehensive.

'I mean, even I know that we should be scouting ahead of the line of advance. It's enemy territory and who knows what traps Caratacus has set for us. The Emperor is no soldier. All he knows about war is what he's learned from books, not from being in the field. If we just plough blindly into the enemy we're asking for trouble.'

'Yes.'

'Someone has to try and reason with him, set him right. Plautius is too weak to object and the Emperor thinks Hosidius Geta is a fool. It has to be someone else.'

'Like me, I suppose.'

'Why not? He seems to like you well enough, and you've got Narcissus' respect. You could try and get him to adopt a safer strategy.'

'No,' Vespasian replied firmly. 'I won't do it.'

'Why, brother?'

'If the Emperor isn't going to listen to Plautius, then he's hardly going to listen to me. Plautius commands the army. It's up to him to approach the Emperor. Let's talk no more about it.'

Sabinus opened his mouth to make another attempt to persuade his brother but the fixed expression on Vespasian's face, familiar from childhood, stopped him. Once Vespasian decided a subject was closed, there was no shifting him; it would be a waste of time to try. Over the years Sabinus had grown used to being frustrated by his younger brother; moreover, he had come to realise that Vespasian was a more able man than he was. Not that Sabinus would ever admit it, and he continued to act the part of the older, wiser brother as best as he could. Those who came to know the brothers well could not help but draw a telling comparison between the quiet competence and steely determination of the younger Vespasian, and the nervous, edgy, too-willing-to-please superficiality of Sabinus.

Vespasian directed his horse to follow the other officers up the slope towards the main gate. He was glad his brother had fallen silent. It was true that Plautius and his legates had been deeply concerned by the over-bold strategy outlined to them by an excited Emperor. Claudius had run on and on, his stammer worsening as he delivered a long rambling lecture on military history and the genius of the bold, direct offensive. After a while Vespasian had ceased to listen, and brooded on more personal matters instead. As he continued to do now.

Despite Flavia's protestations, he still could not shake himself free of the suspicion that she was involved with the Liberators. There had been too many coincidences and opportunities for conspiracy in recent months for him simply to dismiss them on the word of his wife. And that made him feel even worse about the whole matter. They had exchanged a private vow of fidelity in all things when they had married, and her word sbould be good enough. Trust was the root of any relationship and it must thrive for a relationship to grow and mature. But his doubts ate away at this root, insidiously gnawing their viay through the bond between man and wife. Before long he knew he must confront her over the threat to the Emperor that Adminius had stumbled upon. Thus it would be again and again between himself and Flavia, until he had driven out every shred of his doubt and uncertainty – or discovered proof of her guilt.

'I must get back to my legion,' Vespasian a

'May the gods preserve us, brother.'

'I'd rather we didn't have to count on them,' said Vespasian, and gave a thin smile. 'We're in the hands of mortals now, Sabinus. Fate is just an onlooker.'

He kicked his heels into his mount and urged it to a trot, passing along the huddled lines oflegionaries squelching towards Camulodunum. Somewhere ahead of them Caratacus would be waiting with a fresh army he had amassed in the month and a half of grace that Claudius had given him. This time the British warrior chief would be fighting in front of his tribal capital, and both armies would be locked in the most bitter and terrible battle of the campaign.