"I think he's in luck," Gaius noted. "That's the back part of the tent, and Caesar's hardly likely to go around there in the rain."
"Even the Princeps has to piss!"
"Hopefully not just upwind of his tent, though," Gaius shrugged.
"Hopefully not," the Legate of the fourteenth noted. "Oh dear, look at this!" He pointed to a new trireme just arriving and trying to unload. It was rocking dramatically, and men were trying to do something, although exactly what was unclear.
"I bet that's a bloody elephant!" the Legate of the fourteenth grumbled.
"No takers," Gaius replied. "In fact, I'll tell you what. I'm prepared to bet that there'll be thunder before the elephants are unloaded," he added as he looked up at the increasingly ominous skies.
"No takers," came the immediate reply.
Gradually, the predictions came to pass. Somehow an elephant emerged from the trireme, and somehow it landed in the mud on its feet, and to everyone's relief, its sheer power enabled it to walk to the shore. It was, however, a rather grumpy animal, and it was not entirely pleased with the cold wind. However, when it saw the immense heap of hay, it became less agitated.
Four elephants were landed safely, and the fifth was at the side of a trireme when the inevitable thunder came. The elephant leaped, the trireme almost sank, but somehow all was well. The mud was sufficient to at least slow an elephant, and by the time it reached the bank, it was sufficiently calmed when it saw the other elephants and the hay. Gradually more barges arrived and more elephants were unloaded. The Legates were about to go back to their legions when a runner appeared, who brought a message from Claudius to inform the legions that since the weather was so bad there would be no need for a formal welcoming ceremony, although he would like to see the Legates individually in his tent. A very large number of senators and so on had also arrived from Rome, and would presumably wish to have assistance in putting up tents, and moving property. Claudius had left instructions that each of the legions should contribute equally, and should charge for their services according to the scale he had nominated. All such money would go to the invalid soldiers fund, and all enquiries should go through each legion's camp Prefect.
"Surprisingly efficient," the Legate from the fourteenth muttered.
"Claudius learned from the best," Gaius remarked, and when he saw the puzzled looks, "Claudius frequently helped Augustus with the paper work." Then when he saw even more puzzled looks, he added, "That kept him out of Livia's sights, and that helped keep him alive."
"I can see that would be an incentive for keeping amongst the scrolls."
"We can do him a favour," Gaius added, and when he got the inquisitive looks in response, he continued, "Make sure the men know the reason they're not on parade for the next few hours is because Claudius has their interests at heart. It might make them cheer with more enthusiasm later on."
"The men of the Gemina will cheer," The Legate of the fourteenth grunted, "but I take your point."
At this point the two men got up, wrapped their cloaks more tightly, and marched off towards their tents.
* * *
"S so we m meet again!"
"I am honoured, Princeps."
"Y you must advise me."
"On what?" Gaius asked in surprise.
"Wh what you think sh should happen next." Claudius seemed even more excited, and his stammer became worse. "S S Senators h have c c come to watch!" he explained.
"Of course," Gaius nodded.
"Th they're n n not very impressed w with the elephants," Claudius said, his face somewhat downcast. "Th they've b b been talking t to V Vespasian b b before coming here, and V v Vespasian says th they're m m more trouble than they're worth. And h he says we've wasted time. W we should g g get on with it, g g go and face them, b b before it g gets harder. Th the senators seem to agree."
"As a general rule," Gaius nodded, "Vespasian is correct. Elephants have always been more trouble to the attackers than the attacked after Scipio."
"Oh," Claudius said, his voice downcast. "C c can't we even f f find a small use f f for them?"
"We can do better than that," Gaius grinned. "Most great commanders put their mark on the battle by finding the proper way to use something, or the fatal flaw in the opponents' use of something. Here is your chance to demonstrate the correct use of elephants, and show up the senators as a bunch of military nincompoops."
"I knew I c c could rely on you!" Claudius smiled with relief. "I kn know I'm n n not much of a g g g eneral, but. ."
"But Rome needs to think you are," Gaius nodded back. "What you should do, in my opinion, is to get the senators to publicly declare their position, then you say you can do better than that. Now, I've had a map drawn up. Our scouts assure me this is accurate. I shall tell you what I would do." He then outlined the strategic situation as he saw it.
"As I understand the position," Gaius concluded, "the senators think you should get out there and storm Camulodunum. Tell the senators that would be bloody and difficult, and while Rome would prevail, you would like to try to achieve victory with a minimum of losses of Roman life. Tell the troops as well, and watch the senators climb down.
"Now, I would never go straight to Camulodunum," Gaius continued. "There are a number of villages scattered around here," and he pointed to the map, "and I would suggest that instead of advancing directly on Camulodunum, you take care of some of these, and don't use the elephants. This will isolate Camulodunum and break the back of the Catuvellauni before you have to deal with Caratacus. Also, you may be able to take advantage of Caratacus' temper."
"H h h how so?" Claudius asked excitedly.
"When he loses something, he seems to lash out without thinking. Also, his troops will have relations and property in those villages, and they'll be uncontrollable. Either Caratacus will have to use them, or they'll desert. With any sort of luck once he sees his troops dispersing and his kingdom disintegrating before his eyes he'll come out and fight. That will save us having to lay siege to his capital."
"I th thought you said he should t take the initiative?" Claudius asked in a puzzled tone.
"Taking the initiative means finding a perceived weakness and working on it," Gaius responded. "Marching out to meet the enemy head-on merely means you've decided to turn up and get on with it."
"And if w we have t to lay siege?"
"Sometimes you can't help it," Gaius shrugged. "If the enemy won't make a mistake, you then have to go out and fight it out, because you have to defeat him sooner or later. But we might as well give Caratacus every opportunity to go wrong."
"Very g good," Claudius nodded, "Th then we advance?"
"Yes," Gaius said. "There's an open area here, the city's there," he said, marking on a map, "and it's got what's described as a river behind it, but it is more like a sluggish stream, from what I gather, with swamp around it in lots of places. Whatever you call it, although the Celts could in principle retreat over there, it gets them nowhere, and effectively that direction is useless. There's a swamp to the north, which leads to the river, and to be fair might be an escape route for them, but nobody can fight there, and similarly there's a massive tangle of brambles, shrubs and small trees to the south, which is effectively impenetrable. That means we have to march up from the west."
"Th that's what V V Vespasian said in a l letter t to me."
"The Celt's weakness," Gaius continued, "is that the town is made almost entirely of wood. Send a message to Caratacus that we're coming, and we'll bring our catapults up from the west, and we won't lay siege, but simply burn their town to the ground and roast the lot of them if they don't surrender. If they do surrender, no lives will be lost."