The Eagles Prophecy

While the triremes anchored a short distance from the shore the smaller ships had beached and immediately began unloading their supplies and equipment. The bulk of the marines, under Centurion Macro, had been assigned the back-breaking task of constructing a fortified camp around the beachhead. Unlike the men who served in the legions, the marines had had limited training in preparing fortifications and Macro drove them on with increasing exasperation and bad temper. They laboured well beyond sunset and finally completed a makeshift defensive ditch and rampart by the flickering blaze of torchlight. Beyond the sweating marines a thin screen of pickets stood in the darkness, anxiously staring into the shadows for any sign that the pirates might renew their onslaught by land.

As soon as the triremes had been anchored fore and aft in a line parallel to the shore, Vitellius had given the order for additional artillery to be mounted on the decks and trained out to sea. Any pirate ship that attempted to attack the Roman fleet now would have to brave the fire of scores of catapults. Heavy losses would be inflicted long before the pirates could close with the triremes. So Telemachus held his ships back and kept watch on the Roman fleet until nightfall. Then, as the last rays of the setting sun glimmered on the horizon, the pirate fleet turned away from the shore and steered slowly up the coast, leaving their battered foe to count the cost of the day's action.

Prefect Vitellius lowered the slate and stared at his desk. The numbed expression on the aristocrat's heavy features revealed his despair. Cato almost felt pity for the man, before he recalled that the disastrous naval encounter was entirely of the prefect's own making. The lighter ships of the fleet should never have been so encumbered with men and equipment, much of which now lay at the bottom of the sea. If they had only used a convoy of transports to carry the supplies and equipment needed to launch the campaign against the pirates then the enemy would have been beaten off easily. It would have taken longer to make the crossing with transports, but that would have been a tiny price to pay as things had turned out.

As he pondered uselessly on what might have been, Cato realised that Vitellius was not wholly at fault. The perfect timing of the pirates' attack was more than a coincidence. Even if the fleet had been spotted by a pirate ship as it left Rave

Vitellius sighed, and stood up. 'It's not good news, as I'm sure you're already aware. We lost eight of the biremes, two more are badly damaged, as is one of the triremes. She was holed and will need to be repaired at a dockyard. We also lost most of our artillery and siege tools. Much of the food was stored aboard the triremes, so we won't starve to death.' He smiled weakly, but none of his officers responded, and the smile died as the prefect continued, leaving the most painful news to last.

'Nearly eight hundred men were lost with their ships, another sixty killed aboard those vessels that survived, and a further eighty-three wounded…'

Cato looked round at the other officers and noted their mostly hostile expressions. The human cost had been terrible indeed, and many of these men had lost comrades they had known for years. But the cost to Vitellius was even higher, Cato reminded himself. This was a bitter defeat and there was no disguising it in the report he must send back to Rome. But the time it would take for the report to be sent, read through, a response considered and a messenger sent back to the prefect, would give him as much as a month to retrieve the situation.

'It's a bloody disaster,' a voice muttered.

'Who said that?'

No one moved. No one replied. For a moment all was still, until Minucius stood up.

'It was me, sir. Just saying what all the lads here are thinking. The pirates have given us a good kicking, and the word's out that we were betrayed.'

'Betrayed?' Vitellius raised an eyebrow. If the men were looking for a traitor he might turn this to his advantage.

'Someone sold us out, sir. Told 'em where to find us.'

There was a low chorus of angry grumbling and Minucius was emboldened as he continued, 'We should find the bastard. Make him pay for it, nice and slow, like.'

The officers nodded and a few offered chilling suggestions for the fate of the traitor once he was discovered. Vitellius moved closer to the fire so that all could clearly see him by its glow. He raised his hands to quieten them down.

'All right! You have my word. When we find the man, he's yours to deal with as you wish, on one condition.'

Most of the officers looked at him suspiciously; then Minucius cleared his throat. 'What's that then, sir?'

'You give me your word that his death will be as painful as possible.'

The officers laughed with relief, and Minucius nodded solemnly as the noise died away. Then there was an awkward silence as they waited for Vitellius to continue addressing them.

Macro coughed. 'So what happens now, sir?'

'We carry on with the plan,' Vitellius replied firmly. 'We still have enough ships to take on the pirates.'

'No, sir.' Heads turned towards a trierarch at the rear of the tent. Albinus stood up so that he could be clearly seen and heard. 'We need more ships. More biremes.'

'And why's that?' Vitellius replied coolly. 'From what I saw today those ships are worse than useless.'

Albinus shook his head. 'That's not fair, sir. The men on those ships fought the best battle they could today. It's not their fault their ships were no match for the pirates. If we hadn't changed course and gone to help them, I doubt whether any of the biremes would have survived.'

Cato took a sharp intake of breath and looked round at the other officers. Albinus' criticism of his commander could scarcely have been more open, and the centurions and trierarchs looked to Vitellius to see how he would respond.

For a moment he just glared at Albinus, then finally he nodded slowly and replied, 'Your point is well made, but quite academic, as things stand, Albinus. I still wish to know why we need more biremes. Our main force, the triremes, are more or less intact. Once we throw them in against the pirates it'll all be over quickly enough.'

'Yes, sir. Provided the pirates are prepared to sit there and wait for the triremes to come for them…'

'So?' The impatience in the prefect's voice was apparent to all. 'What are you saying?'

'You've served in the legions, sir.'

'What of it?'

'Then you know the tactics well enough. The lighter forces are there to find and pin the enemy down so the main strength can close in and destroy them. At least that's how it works at sea. I assume you do the same thing in the army.'

'Of course we bloody do!' Macro snapped. 'We're not bloody fools, you know. At least the lads in the legion can build a proper fucking camp!' Macro waved an arm towards the dark outline of the rampart stretching round them.'Not this bloody shambles-'

'Thank you, Centurion,' Vitellius cut in.'That's enough.'

Macro's mouth was still open, ready to deliver the rest of his diatribe, but he clamped it shut and nodded.

'Very well, then,' Vitellius continued. 'So we need biremes.'

'No, sir. We need more biremes. We need to match their numbers, at least. I counted a dozen of the bastards, and all of them were well-handled. They've got good crews, and good trierarchs to command them. Frankly, they're better than us, sir. That's why we need more ships. We need some kind of advantage if we're going to stand a chance against them the next time it comes to a fight,' Albinus concluded firmly.