All the same, he could publicly make an offer to them! Simply watching them try to worm out of it would be extremely satisfying, both to himself and to Claudius.
* * *
Moving a Legion was a ponderous business, but Gaius had made it very clear that he wanted the twentieth to be the fastest to get up and go. Accordingly, the twentieth was the first to head north, needless to say, without any of the Senators.
On the eve of departure, the Legates and the Senators were invited by Claudius to a dinner so the Senators could better get to know the Legates. The formal objective had been a clear failure, although the real objective was almost certainly a success. After the first of the entrees, and when wine was flowing, many of the Senators began making blustering claims to knowledge of matters military, most of which led to less than polite sniggers from the Legates of the ninth and fourteenth.
However, Gaius got to his feet and praised them, and thanked them for their offerings. He was most certain that the Princeps would be most pleased to take advantage of their profound knowledge. At this point the other Legates gave Gaius disparaging sneers: you crawling political worm! But Gaius continued: the one weakness they had was that of operational matters, but he offered them the chance to rectify that, and at the same time demonstrate their courage and skill at these matters. The other Legates now gave Gaius looks of disbelief. Gaius continued by proposing that the Senators, particularly Vinicianus, who had been one of the louder ones, accompany the twentieth.
"We are going to send Centuries on raiding missions on small villages," he explained. "If you like to accompany us, you can see real action. We'll give you a horse, a lance, and fit you up with armour. There's no better place to watch a battle than right in the middle of it!"
While the Legates now could hardly contain their laughter, with much hemming and hawing, the Senators declined.
"You mean," frowned the Legate of the fourteenth, "you refuse to give our men the benefit of your expertise in the field?"
"Pigshit! They haven't got any and they know it!" the Legate of the ninth snarled. "Look, come with us, and we'll give you some real experience. Proper uniforms, and we'll put you in the front line. Then you can come face to face with these Celts you seem to denigrate, and buy yourselves bragging rights for years describing how you actually killed some Celts instead of sitting on your arses on the back seats."
"So, here you are," Gaius continued. "Three Legions are offering you the opportunity to get some genuine battlefield experience. What I suggest is that those of you who would prefer to fight from horseback present themselves to Lucius Matius, who will sell you a horse and equipment, the proceeds of the sale going to the disabled soldier's fund for the twentieth. Those of you who would prefer to fight on foot should go to whomever Claudius nominates."
"It's all f for a good c c cause," Claudius offered. "Of c course if you want t to get out of f fighting, a g generous donation to th the p p pension fund for the soldiers w will be accepted." Despite the stuttering, the implication was quite clear: you will now pay for your boasting, or demonstrate there was something behind it. In the spirit of Little Boots, Claudius continued by pointing out he would judge what was genuinely generous, and failure to be generous would lead to an order to fight in a position he nominated, donation or no donation. Considerable amounts of gold were transferred to the soldiers' pension fund, and the Senators were notable for their lack of boasting about military matters thereafter. The senators also began to realize that with three legions prepared to enforce Claudius' imperium, disobeying Claudius right now was not a very good idea.
The twentieth made good progress the first day, but there was virtually no opposition. The next day they split to take four small villages, where the cohorts met only perfunctory resistance at best. This was repeated the following day. As Gaius noted, the villages were small, there were very few soldiers there, and those that were wisely fled once the Romans came into view, or quickly surrendered when it was apparent that their village was an objective. Claudius' policy was firm; a quick surrender guaranteed very favourable treatment. Pillage was strictly forbidden, and once disarmed, the villagers quickly returned to the problems of preparing themselves for the oncoming winter. Acceptance of Roman domination meant that nobody would be enslaved, and, as it turned out, the taxes Rome wanted were no worse, and often better, than the payments Caratacus had demanded.
Some of the soldiers thought that this was too easy, and there was no real fighting. However, as Gaius pointed out to the Tribunes, Caratacus' economic base was disappearing before his eyes; in a week all he would have was a city, a number of soldiers, but no food. He might consider himself a chief or king, but he would only be in charge of problems. Then he would have to fight, but he would fight on Rome's terms.
The march was north and northwest, which left Caratacus' capital unchallenged, but it was an increasingly isolated island in a sea of Roman domination. Finally, the twentieth turned to the East, and on the early afternoon of the last day of the week, the walls of Camulodunum could be seen.
"So, what do you think?" Gaius turned towards Matius.
"I think Caratacus is a fool," Matius replied. "Right now there is one legion in front of him. In another day or so, there will be two more. He should come out and fight now, because it isn't going to get any easier."
"Quite so," Gaius agreed. "What Caratacus thinks is that it will be easier to fight defensively, and that his walls will stop us."
"Then he needed much bigger stone walls," Matius shrugged. "Those walls will take no more than an hour or so to breach."
"Yes, but they would have been more than adequate for any previous battles with other Celts, who don't have our siege engines," Gaius said. "The lesson here that he has yet to learn is that you shouldn't decide your strategy until you know exactly the strengths and weaknesses of your opponent, how he will fight, and what he can achieve that way."
"He won't have seen Roman soldiers before," Matius agreed. "This will be a surprise."
"Perhaps, but he should have tried to gain more knowledge," Gaius pointed out. "In this case, the Roman army hasn't changed much for a century, and he knew about Julius' landing in Britain. If he didn't know how to get around that, he shouldn't have ever contemplated fighting."
"He hasn't had a lot of choice, once we landed," Matius pointed out.
"All he had to do was ally with us before, and this wouldn't have happened."
"That doesn't necessarily follow," Matius countered, then began to look a little apologetic, as he realized that going against his commander might not be a good idea.
"You're free to say what you like," Gaius smiled. "I started this conversation to find out what sort of a commander you'll make if given the chance. So what doesn't necessarily follow?"
"That Claudius wouldn't have invaded anyway. Little Boots set an example, and Claudius needs a victory, and, well, Britain is here, and. ."
"You may be right," Gaius nodded. "Can you think of anything else?"
"Just one thing," Matius said, then began looking a little embarrassed.
"Which is?"
"You said, sir, that if Caratacus didn't know how to get around the Roman methods, he shouldn't have ever contemplated fighting."
"So?"
"Strictly speaking," Matius continued, "we don't know he hasn't got something up his sleeve. We don't know. ."
"You're quite correct," Gaius nodded. "Strictly speaking, we don't know he hasn't got some secret weapon, or tactic, or something that will beat us. So what do you suggest?"