The Grass Crown (60 page)

“Given that we might have to keep—say, ten to fifteen legions in the field—what should the tributum be fixed at?” asked Lucius Caesar, disliking this part of his command.

The chief tribune of the Treasury and his clerical cohort went into a huddle which lasted for some time, then:

“One percent of a man’s census worth” was the answer.

“The Head Count get out of it as usual!” shouted Caepio.

“The Head Count,” said Marius with heavy irony, “are likely to be doing most of the fighting, Quintus Servilius!”

“While we are on financial matters,” said Lucius Julius Caesar, ignoring this exchange, “we had best depute some of our more senior members to look after army supplies, particularly in the matter of armor and weapons. Normally the praefectus fabrum takes care of these things, but at this moment we have no real idea of how our legions will be distributed—nor how many we’re likely to need. I think it necessary that the Senate look after army supplies, at least for the present. We have four veteran legions under arms in Capua, and two more legions being recruited and trained there. All were destined for service in the provinces, but that is now out of the question. Whatever troops the provinces have at the moment will have to suffice.”

“Lucius Julius,” said Caepio, “this is absolutely ridiculous! On no more evidence than two incidents in two cities, we’re sitting here reimposing the tributum, talking about putting fifteen legions into the field, deputing senators to organize the buying of thousands upon thousands of mail-shirts and swords and all the rest, sending men to govern provinces we don’t even officially call provinces—next, you’ll be proposing to call up every male Roman or Latin citizen under thirty-five!”

“I will indeed,” said Lucius Caesar cordially. “However, my dear Quintus Servilius, you won’t have to worry—you’re well over thirty-five.” He paused, then added, “In years, at least.”

“It seems to me,” said Catulus Caesar haughtily, “that Quintus Servilius might—I say only, might!—have a point. Surely we should content ourselves with what men we have under the eagles at the moment, and make further preparations as we go—and as the evidence of a massive insurrection materializes—or does not.”

“When our soldiers are needed, Quintus Lutatius, they must be fit to fight as well as outfitted to fight!” said Scaurus testily. “They must be already trained.” He turned his head to the man who sat on his right. “Gaius Marius, how long does it take to turn a raw recruit into a good soldier?”

“Fit to send into battle—one hundred days. At which point no man is a good soldier, Marcus Aemilius. It takes his first battle to make that of him,” said Marius.

“Can it be done in less than one hundred days?”

“It can—if you have good raw material and better than average training centurions.”

“Then we’d best find better than average training centurions,” said Scaurus grimly.

“I suggest we get back to the matter in hand,” said Lucius Caesar firmly. “We were talking about a senatorial praefectus fabrum to organize the equipping and outfitting of the legions we do not as yet possess. It would seem to me that we should nominate several names for the most senior job, then let the man elected choose his own staff—senatorial staff, I mean. I suggest we nominate only men who, for one reason or another, are not suited for the field. May I hear some names, please?”

The job went to the son of Gaius Cassius’s senior legate, who had died at Burdigala in the German ambush—Lucius Calpurnius Piso Caesoninus. A victim of that strange disease which preyed upon children in summer, Piso had a badly wasted left leg, which negated military service. Married to the daughter of Publius Rutilius Rufus, now in exile in Smyrna, Piso was an intelligent man who had suffered greatly due to the premature death of his father, especially where money was concerned. At the news that he was to be in charge of all military purchasing, and could select his own staff, his eyes glistened. If he couldn’t do a good job for Rome and fill his own empty purse at one and the same time, then he deserved to dwindle into obscurity! But, sitting smiling quietly, he was sure that he was equal to both tasks.

“Now we come to the commands and the dispositions,” said Lucius Caesar; he was beginning to tire, but had no intention of concluding the meeting before this last subject was aired.

“How do we best organize ourselves?” he asked.

By rights he should have addressed that question directly to Gaius Marius. But he was no admirer of Marius, and felt, besides, that between his stroke and his age Marius was not the man he used to be. Marius had also taken the floor first; he had had his say, surely. Lucius Caesar’s eyes roamed over the faces of the men on the tiers of either side, looking, wondering; and so, having asked how they might best organize themselves, he then put a second query too quickly on the heels of the first to permit Marius’s answering.

“Lucius Cornelius cognominated Sulla, I would like to hear your opinion,” said the senior consul, careful to speak clearly; the urban praetor was also a Lucius Cornelius, cognominated Cinna.

To be thus singled out startled Sulla, but he was ready to answer nonetheless. “If our enemies are the eight nations who sent that deputation to see us, then the chances are that we’ll be assailed on two fronts—from the east along the Via Salaria and the Via Valeria with its two branches—and to our south, where Samnite influence crosses all the way from the Adriatic to the Tuscan at Crater Bay. To take the south first, if the Apuli, the Lucani, and the Venusini join the Samnites, the Hirpini, and the Frentani, then the south becomes a definite and ominous theater of war by itself. We can call the second theater of war by either of two names—a northern theater, meaning territories to the north and east of Rome, or a central theater, meaning territories to the north and east of Rome. The Marsi, the Paeligni, the Marrucini, the Vestini, and the Picentes are the nations involved in this central or northern theater. You will note that for the present moment I do not bring Etruria, Umbria, or northern Picenum into the discussion.”

Sulla drew a breath, hurried on while it all glowed like crystal in his mind. “In the south, our enemies will do their utmost to cut us off from Brundisium, Tarentum, and Rhegium. In the center or north, our enemies will attempt to cut us off from Italian Gaul, certainly along the Via Flaminia, possibly also the Via Cassia. If they should succeed, then our only access to Italian Gaul would be along the Via Aurelia and the Via Aemilia Scauri to Dertona, and thence to Placentia.”

Lucius Caesar interrupted. “Step down to the floor, Lucius Cornelius cognominated Sulla.”

Down Sulla came, with a ghost of a wink for Marius; it gave him little joy to be filching this analysis from the Old Master. That he did so at all was a complicated matter—a combination of bitter resentment that Marius still had his son, umbrage that when he came back from Cilicia no one in the House including Marius had invited him to make a full report on his activities in the East, and a lightning understanding of the fact that if he spoke well at this moment, he would go very far, very fast. Too bad, Gaius Marius, he thought. I don’t want to hurt you, but I’d do it every time anyway.

“I think,” he went on from the floor, “that we’ll need both consuls in the field, just as Lucius Julius suggested. One consul will have to go south because of Capua, which is vital to us. If we should lose Capua, then we lose our best training facilities as well as a town superbly experienced in aiding soldier-training and soldier-supplying. There will, of course, have to be a consular chief of training and recruiting in Capua itself, aside from the consul commanding in the field. Whoever the consul is to go south will have to take everything the Samnites and their allies throw at him. What the Samnites will attempt to do is to drive west through their old haunts around Acerrae and Nola toward the seaports on the south side of Crater Bay. Stabiae, Salernum, Surrentum, Pompeii, and Herculaneum. If they can capture any or all of those, then they have port facilities on the Tuscan Sea better by far than any ports on the Adriatic north of Brundisium. And they will have cut us off from the far south.”

Sulla was not a great speaker, for his training in rhetoric had been minimal, and his career in the House mostly spent out of it in one war or another. But this wasn’t oratory. All this needed was good plain speaking.

“The northern or central theater is more difficult. We must presume that all the lands between northern Picenum and Apulia including the Apennine highlands are in enemy hands. Here, the Apennines themselves are our greatest obstacle. If we are to hold on to Etruria and Umbria, then we must make a good showing against these Italian peoples from the very start of our campaign. If we do not, Etruria and Umbria will go over to the enemy, we will lose our roads and Italian Gaul. One consul will have to command in this theater.”

“Surely we should have one overall commander,” said Scaurus.

“We cannot, Princeps Senatus. Our own lands separate the two theaters I have described,” said Sulla firmly. “Latium is long and runs into northern Campania, which is the half of Campania we’re more likely to find loyal to us. I doubt southern Campania will be loyal if the insurgents win any battles at all, it’s too riddled with Samnites and Hirpini. Look at Nola, already. East of Latium, the Apennines are impossible, and we have the Pomptine Marshes besides. One overall commander would have to shuttle desperately between two widely separated areas of conflict, and he couldn’t do it quickly enough to keep a proper eye on both. Truly, we will be fighting on two separate fronts! If not three. The south can possibly be run as one campaign because the Apennines are at their lowest where Samnium, Apulia, and Campania join. However, in the northern or central theater it’s highly likely there will be both a northern and a central theater. Thank the Apennines for this, as they are at their highest. The lands of the Marsi, the Paeligni, and possibly the Marrucini form a separate theater from the Picentes and the Vestini. I don’t see how we can contain all the Italians by fighting purely in the center. It’s probably going to be necessary to send an army into the rebellious parts of Picenum through Umbria and northern Picenum, bringing it down on the Adriatic side of the mountains. In the meantime, we’ll have to drive east of Rome into the lands of the Marsi and Paeligni.”

Sulla paused; he couldn’t help it, yet he hated himself for this weakness. How was Gaius Marius feeling? If he didn’t like what Sulla was saying, then here was his opportunity to say so. And Gaius Marius spoke. Sulla tensed.

“Please go on, Lucius Cornelius,” the Old Master said. “So far, I couldn’t do better myself.”

His pale eyes flashed, a faint smile grew at the corners of Sulla’s mouth, then vanished. He shrugged. “I think that’s all, really. And bear in mind that it’s predicated on an insurrection involving at least eight Italian nations. I don’t think it’s my duty to indicate who goes where. However, I would say that I feel those who are sent to the north-central theater in particular ought to have many clients in the area. If, for instance, Gnaeus Pompeius Strabo were to maneuver in Picenum, he already has a base of power there, and thousands of clients. The same might be said of Quintus Pompeius Rufus, though on a lesser scale, 1 know. In Etruria, Gaius Marius is a great landowner, again with thousands of clients. As is true of the Caecilii Metelli. In Umbria, Quintus Servilius Caepio reigns supreme. If these men were connected to the northern or central theater, it would be a help.”

Sulla bowed his head to Lucius Julius Caesar in the chair, and returned to his place amid murmurs of (he thought, anyway) admiration. He had been asked for his opinion ahead of anyone else in the House, and that, on such an occasion, was a huge leap into prominence. Unbelievable! Oh, was it possible he was on his way at last?

“We must all thank Lucius Cornelius Sulla for that very crisp and thoughtful statement of the facts,” said Lucius Caesar, smiling at Sulla in a way that promised further distinction. “For myself, I agree with him. But how says the House? Does anyone have other or different ideas?”

It appeared no one had.

Scaurus Princeps Senatus cleared his throat gruffly. “You must make your dispositions, Lucius Julius,” he said. “If it does not displease the Conscript Fathers, I would only say that I myself would prefer to remain in Rome.”

“I think you will be needed in Rome, with both her consuls out of the city,” said Lucius Caesar graciously. “The Leader of the House will prove immensely valuable to our good urban praetor, Lucius Cornelius cognominated Cinna.” He glanced sideways at his colleague, Lupus. “Publius Rutilius Lupus, would you be willing to take the burden of command to the north and center of Rome?” he asked. “As senior consul, I think it essential that I command in the theater containing Capua.”

Lupus glowed, swelled. “I will assume the burden with great pleasure, Lucius Julius.”

“Then, if the House has no objections, I will command in Campania. As my chief legate, I choose Lucius Cornelius cognominated Sulla. To command in Capua itself and supervise all activity there, I appoint the consular Quintus Lutatius Catulus Caesar. ’As my other senior legates I will have Publius Licinius Crassus, Titus Didius, and Servius Sulpicius Galba,” said Lucius Caesar. “My colleague Publius Rutilius Lupus, whom will you have?”

“Gnaeus Pompeius Strabo, Sextus Julius Caesar, Quintus Servilius Caepio, and Lucius Porcius Cato Licinianus,” said Lupus loudly.

There was a sudden silence, not broken for what seemed an enormous length of time. Someone must break it! thought Sulla, and opened his mouth without meaning to, without wanting to.

“What about Gaius Marius?” he asked harshly.

Lucius Caesar blinked. “I must confess that I didn’t choose Gaius Marius because, bearing in mind what you said, Lucius Sulla, I thought naturally that Publius Rutilius my colleague would want Gaius Marius!”

“Well, I don’t want him!” said Lupus. “I’m not going to have him foisted on me, either! Let him stay in Rome with all the others of his age and infirmity. He’s too old and sick for war.”

At which point Sextus Julius Caesar rose to his feet. “May I speak, senior consul?” he asked.