The Eagles Conquest

It had already been struck in the rump and a bloody smear ran down its back legs from the bolt which protruded from its wrinkled skin. As the second bolt struck, the elephant whipped its trunk up into the air, bellowing and shrieking with agony. The force of the bolt carried it right through the thick hide and buried the head deep within the animal's vitals. With the next cry of agony came a thick crimson spray from the end of its trunk, which hung in the air like a red mist before dispersing. Thrashing wildly in the mud, the animal rolled onto its side, dragging the driver down with it. More bolts slammed into the other animals stranded in the marsh and one by one the British charioteers picked off the remaining elephants before the nearest Roman infantry could reach the knoll. The Britons bounded onto their waiting chariots and with a loud chorus of shouts and cracking of reins the chariots rumbled diagonally up the slope, past the Roman camp, and escaped round the edge of the forest.

'The bastards,' Cato heard a legionary mutter.

An appalled stillness hung over the vale, made more unbearable by the terrible cries of beasts in their death throes. Cato could see British spearmen skirting the edge of the marsh as they took full advantage of the pause to escape. Cato wanted to point them out and yell out an order to pursue the enemy, but the screams of the dying elephants mesmerised the Romans.

'I wish someone would silence those bloody animals,' Macro said quietly.

Cato shook his head in astonishment. All across the vale lay bleeding and butchered men, hundreds of Romans amongst them, and yet these hardened veterans standing around him were perversely fascinated by the fate of a handful of dumb animals. He banged a fist down on the rim of his shield in bitter frustration. As the British spearmen fled, their comrades up on the ridge realised that the trap had failed. Uncertainty and fear rippled through their ranks and they began to give ground to the legions, slowly at first, and then more steadily, until they melted away in large numbers. Only Caratacus' elite band of warriors stood firm until the army had safely withdrawn.

From the crest of the hill the Emperor slapped his thigh with glee at the sight of the enemy in full retreat. 'Ha! Watch him f-f-fly with his tail between his legs!'

General Plautius coughed. 'May I pass the order for the pursuit to begin, Caesar?'

'P-pursuit?' Claudius's eyebrows rose. 'Certainly not! It would be

'But Caesar~'

'But! But! But! Enough, G-g-general! I give the orders. As well I should. My very f-first effort at command and I win a resounding victory. Is that not proof enough of my military b-b-brilliance? Well?'

Plautius looked towards Narcissus imploringly, but the chief secretary shrugged with a slight shake of his head. The general pursed his lips, and nodded towards the retreating Britons. 'Yes, Caesar. That's proof enough.'

Chapter Forty-Nine

Two days later the Roman army arrived before the ramparts of Camulodunum. When news of Caratacus' defeat reached the town elders of the Trinovantes they wisely refused to admit the bedraggled remains of their overlord's army into their capital, watching with relief as the sullen column disappeared across the rich farmland to the north. Most of the Trinovante warriors who had served with Caratacus kept faith with him and sadly turned their back on their kinsfolk and marched away. A few hours later an advance party of Roman cavalry scouts approached warily, and nearly turned and fled when the gates were abruptly thrown open and a deputation rushed out to greet them. The Trinovantes were effusive in their welcome to the Romans and in their condemnation of those of their tribe who had joined Caratacus in his futile attempt to resist the might of Emperor Claudius.

The scouts carried the greetings back to the army marching several miles behind them, and late in the afternoon the exhausted Roman legions pitched camp just outside the Trinovantes' capital. The professional caution of General Plautius meant that the deep ditch and high rampart of a camp in the face of the enemy was constructed before the army was allowed to rest.

Early the next day the Emperor and his staff were conducted on an informal tour of the tribal capital, a dour affair by imperial standards, mostly timber-framed buildings of wattle and daub with a handful of more impressive stone structures at its heart. The capital fronted a deep river, alongside which ran a sturdy quay and long storage sheds where Gaulish merchants plied their trade, carrying fine wines and pottery from the continent and filling their vessels for the return journey with furs, gold, silver, and exotic barbarian jewellery for the voracious consumers of the empire.

'An excellent place to found our first colony, Caesar,' Narcissus a

'Well, yes. Good,' muttered the Emperor, not really listening to his chief secretary. 'But I rather think a n-n-nice temple in honour of me should be an early p-p-priority. '

'A temple, Caesar?'

'Nothing too fussy, just sufficient to insp-sp-spire a little awe.'

'As you wish, Caesar.' Narcissus bowed and then smoothly moved the conversation on to more pertinent schemes for developing the colony. Listening to them, Vespasian could not help but wonder at how easily the decision to erect such a monument was made. A mere whim of the Emperor, and it would happen just like that. A vast colo

'How is the pla

'Very well, Caesar,' Narcissus replied. 'A state procession into the capital at midday, the dedication of an altar to peace, and then a banquet in the centre of Camulodunum in the evening. I've had word from our new allies. Seems that they know of Caratacus' defeat and are anxious to pledge their allegiance to us as soon as they can. Should make a dramatic centre-piece to the banquet. You know the sort of thing: the savages led into the presence of the mighty Emperor, before whose imperial majesty they feel compelled to fall on bended knee and swear eternal obedience. It'll look terrific, and make for great reading in the Rome gazette. The plebs will love it.'

'Good. Then see to the appropriate arrangements, please.' Claudius stopped in mid-stride, and his staff officers had to pull up abruptly to avoid ru

Vespasian suddenly felt very worn out by the Emperor's presence.

The endless and effortless arrogance of members of the imperial family was born of the cringing obeisance presented by all those who surrounded them. Vespasian was proud of his family's genuine achievements. From his grandfather who had served as a centurion in Pompey's army, to his father who had earned sufficient fortune to be elevated into the equestrian class, and thence to his own generation where both he and Sabinus could look forward to glittering senatorial careers. None of it was a mere accident of birth. All of it was the result of a great deal of effort and proven ability. Looking from Claudius to Narcissus and back again, Vespasian experienced his first pang of desire to be as venerated as was his due. In a fairer world it would be him, and not the inept Claudius, who held the destiny of Rome in his hands.