Crassus turned to look in confusion at Brutus and then Galba.
“What rest of the Twelfth? What fleet? What in the name of Minerva are you talking about?”
Caesar ignored the legate and nodded.
“Very well. The fleet was a good idea. Moreover, it was your idea, Brutus, so I’m putting them under your command. Draw marines from the stronger legions who can spare the men, particularly the Ninth, and then head for Turonum. As soon as the ships are finished and the crews arrive, send Galba’s men back to him and get the fleet underway. Take them downstream to the sea and stay there until the legions arrive. Use the intervening time to get a little training and practice in. Are you happy with all that?”
Brutus nodded, his face straight.
“I’m no experienced admiral, Caesar, but I know the basics. We’ll be there and ready.”
“Good. Where is Varus?”
Fronto smiled nastily at the astonished face of legate Crassus.
“I asked him to get riders sent out to the legions with the recall order.”
Crassus opened his mouth to argue but, behind him Caesar overrode him.
“Good. When he’s back, tell him to take half the cavalry and a few of the fastest moving foot auxiliary units and move across country as fast as they can to meet up with Labienus at Nemetocenna. The last report I had from Labienus a few months ago seemed to indicate that things were going exceptionally well there. He seems to be well on his way to Romanising the Belgae already and, with the cavalry reinforcements, he should be able to keep things settled and safe over there and hopefully keep the Germans on the other side of the Rhine.”
Fronto nodded approvingly. Labienus was, most certainly, the man for the job. With him watching their back, Fronto felt reasonably secure.
“So are we going to concentrate the rest of the forces on Armorica and hope the example we make keeps the Spanish and the British out of it?”
Caesar waggled his hand in a non-committal fashion.
“Partially. There’s very little we can do at the moment about Britannia. We just have to hope that either they decide against interference, or they take so long preparing that we have dealt with the situation before they can land in Gaul. Spain is a different matter.”
Fronto nodded. He had personal experience of the Celtic and Iberian tribes across the Pyrenees. They were as hardy as the Gauls but less inclined to settle and negotiate, a fact that had contributed greatly to the heavy-handed and brutal tactics Caesar had employed there years ago when Fronto had commanded the Ninth.
“We need something like the Labienus situation down there.”
“No” Caesar disagreed, shaking his head. “This is different. What we need with the Pyrenean tribes is to frighten them into submission. They’ve no real experience or appreciation of Roman culture, despite being so close to Narbo. They won’t be talked out of action, and we need to put a stop to them getting involved and also to seal the passes over the mountains and stop the Spanish tribes helping them.”
Sabinus, near the back of the room, frowned.
“Sounds like we’re in danger of splitting the army and spreading it a little too thin for comfort, Caesar?”
The general nodded, rubbing his temple.
“We can’t spare too many men, for certain.”
Sabinus cleared his throat.
“If you want me to take a legion or two and deal with it, sir?”
Caesar shook his head, examining the map by his hand.
“No. I shall be sending you, Crassus.”
The room fell silent, many faces quickly registering both surprise and disapproval. The tense quiet was broken when Crassus, finding his voice for the first time since the conversation began, turned to the general.
“Sir?”
The general glowered at him.
“You took a peaceful situation up here and turned it into a war. You are a good commander for punitive campaigns, Crassus, but to be frank, you are just too brutal in your methods to administer a freshly-conquered land.”
Fronto almost laughed aloud. To be considered ‘too brutal’ by the man who had ordered the execution of an entire captive tribe not long after they’d first ever marched into this country said a great deal.
Crassus was nodding, though, as though the general had complimented him.
“You want their spirit and their will to resist crushed?”
The general smiled.
“I see you have the picture. Can you repeat your success of last year?”
Crassus nodded, an unpleasant smile creeping across his face.
“I shall take the Seventh and seal off the southwest completely, general.”
“Good. You will need to be highly manoeuvrable in the foothills of the Pyrenees, so I’m sending the rest of the cavalry with you.”
Crispus leaned close to Fronto and whispered in his ear “That’ll please Varus!”
Fronto nodded slightly and spoke from the corner of his mouth.
“Question is: will he go with them to Labienus where he won’t have to deal with Crassus, or would he rather go south and keep his eye on his men?”
He became aware that Caesar was glaring at him.
“Sorry sir. Go on.”
The general took a deep breath and then focused on Sabinus, standing at the back of the room.
“Are you still up for a command, Sabinus?”
“Of course, general.”
“Good. I’m giving you the weaker legions, I’m afraid. Take the Twelfth, who are still busy training and re-equipping, the Fourteenth who are still very green and a little… Gallic… if you get my drift, and most of the Ninth.” He scanned the room for the legates of those legions and spotted Rufus near the door.
“Sabinus acts with the full authority of Praetor over the three legions, while you’ll each maintain command of your individual legions. However, I require three cohorts of the ninth to join the navy as marines. The ninth had experience of naval combat near Saguntum a few years ago, so they may be useful.”
Rufus saluted, his expression neutral.
Sabinus frowned. “What am I to do then, General?”
“You’ll take the Ninth, Tenth and Fourteenth up toward the north coast. Do whatever you have to in order to keep those tribes from marching south and joining the Veneti. Keep the peace if you can; keep them subdued if not.”
Sabinus nodded.
“Good,” the general said, leaning back. “That means the rest of you are with me. The Eighth, Tenth, Eleventh, and Thirteenth will be moving against the Veneti, backed by Brutus’ fleet. I intend to put this situation in order as fast as possible. I need to be back in Rome in the autumn, and I don’t want to drag this out.”
Balbus cleared his throat.
“We can move as soon as the roving cohorts return, general, but are we leaving a garrison here? We could be in danger of letting the locals rise up behind us, given how I hear they’ve been treated during the winter.” He cast a quick glance at Crassus, who glared back balefully at the veiled accusation.
The general rubbed his chin thoughtfully and then pinched the bridge of his nose.
“I was trying to avoid it. We can’t really spare the men.”
“There is another solution…”
They turned to Crispus, who was smiling, a twinkle in his eye.
“Yes?”
“The Labienus solution? We are, after all, trying to Romanise the land and enforce the pax Romana? A little trust given goes a long way to receiving more in return.”
Caesar frowned. “What are you suggesting?”
Crispus smiled.
“No caretaker garrison. We speak to their leaders, who have been dispossessed and moved across the river. We thank them for their help and support. We tell them that we are moving on and apologise for inconveniencing them. When we leave, we leave them some of our surplus supplies… we don’t have many, but Cita has more coming in from the south. They will have their oppidum back, but we have cleaned it, strengthened it, constructed an aqueduct channel from the springs to the north, and stockpiled goods. To give it back to them might go some way to repairing our somewhat tattered reputation and make our task easier?”