Once again winter approaches, and once again I miss you very much. However, at least I know you have been very successful. Claudius has returned in triumph, and what a magnificent ceremony it was. Timothy took me to watch the procession and events in the Circus Maximus, and Claudius made a truly magnificent figure in his Toga Picta. The sun shone brilliantly on the purple, the gold really flashed, and since he was standing in his chariot, his often awkward stance was absent, or at least not noticeable. The carts had plenty of spoils and he brought a reasonable number of captives, none of whom, you will be pleased to hear, were sacrificed. Some thought it a small triumph, in part because he did not bring his army back with him, nevertheless it was long enough for me.
Claudius invited me to an evening the following day, and he was as pleased as he could be with himself. He asked me what he could do for me. It almost looked as if he would grant me anything, but I didn't know what to do, so I asked him to grant you whatever you asked when you returned to Rome. He nodded, and said he was going to do that anyway, because it was you who really deserved the triumph. So there! You'll really get something. Of course I know you think you might not get back until Rome falls, but that's just plain stupid. All you have to do is stay alive, and Claudius will bring you home after the next year of campaigning.
The general consensus is that this triumph will secure Claudius, and he need worry no further about plots. Certainly some of the senators such as Marcus Vinicianus and Valerius Asiaticus are maintaining low profiles, but I am far from convinced that we have heard the last of them. When Claudius does bring you back, you may end up with the job of uncovering further plots. Claudius has often mentioned that if he had one wish fulfilled, he would wish for a Marcus Agrippa. Claudius may hope you will fill that role.
Timothy has been a considerable help around here. It's quite amazing what he knows, and he has straightened out several things around the estate. The corn issue may have been solved also. Timothy decided to raise the issue with Quintus, but not in an accusatory manner. He merely said that the issue was really puzzling, but he was working on it, and he would have watchers at the port to find out who was helping themselves. The latest shipment arrived without losses. Of course, as Timothy pointed out, that doesn't mean that it was Quintus, but it does suggest it was someone around Ostia. I gather Timothy will be making further enquiries.
I hope you are securing good quarters for winter, which cannot be far away when this gets to you. Keep warm, and keep safe.
I miss you very much,
Your loving Vipsania.
The corn issue was a continuing sore. What were the facts? It appeared that about ten per cent of the corn had been taken over the last three years. This three-year period was the time Quintus had been managing the shipments. When Timothy appeared, the loss stopped. Timothy had mentioned to Quintus that he was going to check.
Either Quintus was guilty or he was not. All the facts fitted with his guilt, but suppose he were not guilty? Somebody else may have seen Quintus as a soft touch, someone who was simply not doing his job properly. Possibly Quintus had told somebody else about the corn, and that somebody else had seized the opportunity. They may have simply watched Quintus accept the grain at the waterfront, then if Quintus had wandered off to a tavern and left somebody else do the work, the theft could easily happen.
Quintus need not be a thief; just somebody not very useful. But what about the last time? Timothy had remained hidden. Either the thief would have had to spot Timothy, which was unlikely, or he had heard Timothy tell Quintus, or Quintus had told somebody else. Quintus' mouthing off about a secret plan was depressingly likely.
So, he still did not know what to do about Quintus, not that there was much he could do since he was Lucilla's husband and was living near Rome, while he was in Britain.
* * *
Over the next few weeks, rafts were built to ferry timber over the river, and fortifications were quickly built, together with storehouses and barracks. A suitable building was quickly erected for Gaius, both for his personal use and as an administrative centre. Gaius had brought a considerable amount of blank scroll material with him, and once everybody had their assigned tasks, he would have plenty of spare time to write.
He remembered Athene's instruction: record his discoveries of where Aristotle was wrong, but show them to no person. It was not quite clear what the last part meant, but the first was clear enough. He would record all his findings, including that contraries were the opposite or absence of the other, that contraries to motion were applied by the medium, and were not a property of the object itself, that all things fell at the same rate, which meant that if the force on a falling object was its weight, the acceleration had to be the weight divided by the amount of matter present. That allowed Aristarchus to be correct, and he could show geometrically what happened as the planets fell around the sun. He knew roughly how far away they all were, and exactly how long each of their "years" was, so he should be able to work out the accelerating factor for each of them. Maybe there would be a relationship? Whatever, he would prove through his evidence from the tides that Earth moved, he would put that down geometrically, he would show what that predicted regarding the Moon's and Sun's contributions, and he would put Timothy's data in.
That would be impressive. It would also be the very first scroll to enter this new Library of Rome that Claudius had promised. That would mean that work would last for years, even after his death. Yes, that was worth quite a bit.
Meanwhile, construction progressed at quite an impressive rate, for the Roman soldier worked very hard when given a task. The Celtic villagers watched with varying expressions: the older Celts were either surly or downcast, but the children were fascinated at the huge construction. Gaius approached one or two of the young men.
"Impressed?" He asked one.
"Hard not to be."
Gaius smiled encouragingly at the response. "You could build much stronger warmer houses for yourselves, you know."
"We couldn't build like that," the young man said sadly.
"Only because you don't know how. The question is, do you want to learn?"
"What do you mean?"
"If you, and any of your friends, want to help build that bridge, you'll work hard, you'll get paid for it, and more to the point, you'll learn some building tricks."
"I don't think those soldiers will want the likes of us."
"Oh yes they will," Gaius smiled. "They will be only too happy to teach you and look after you, and nobody will hurt you or bully you."
"That's what you say."
"No! That's what I will order," Gaius said coldly. "The Roman soldier obeys orders because they all know what will happen if they do not. So, if you're interested, come with me."
Two days later half a dozen young Celts were busy measuring and cutting timber.
* * *
Gaius had heard stories that the Celts celebrated the winter solstice at a great stone monument to the west, and this monstrous monument was aligned precisely so that the solstice could be shown by the way the sunlight passed between stones onto another. Not this year, he muttered to himself. It had drizzled for a week, and had the senators come the previous year and seen a similar miserable scene, this invasion probably would not have taken place.
Still, thanks to shipments from Gaul, supplies of food were adequate, if not luxurious, there was plenty of wine, and there was plenty of firewood. There was also more open ground, as all the construction and firewood gathering had caused a considerable retreat of the forest. As far as he was aware, the Celts in the adjacent village had sufficient food, but he was only too well aware that there would not be too much to spare. If some of his men and the elephants were put to work on those stumps, there should be more farmland for the next season. The question was, who would get the use of it? Perhaps he should make it common land. Perhaps he should invite the Celtic chief and some guests nominated by the chief to one of the Saturnalia festivities.