Asinius Pollio was a good general. He was also a great scholar and a very wise man, one who was usually right about most things. In this, he was more right than he knew.
~ ~ ~ ~
While we were watching events in Rome, it was not as if there were not things going on in Hispania, courtesy of Sextus Pompey, who had managed to flee into the hills to gather together a group of die-hard Pompeians, but he was not much more than a nuisance. However, the fear was not what he could do at that moment, but that if he were allowed to go unchecked, he could gain strength and experience so that at some point in the future he became a formidable opponent. He was still in his teens, and he was smart enough to recruit men from areas that had been Pompeian strongholds for many years. One day I was called to the praetorium to see that there was a new face along with Pollio, and in thinking back, I do not know if I took an instant disliking to the man before he opened his mouth, but if not it was only moments after, when he did start speaking.
“Primus Pilus Pullus, this is Marcus Aemilius Lepidus. He'll be taking over command here, as he has been sent by the Senate to govern the province.”
Pollio’s tone was formal and correct, yet I had been around him long enough to know that he was not happy about this development. I turned to salute Lepidus, who I towered over by several inches, which was not unusual, but Lepidus was as narrow as he was short. He had little muscle on his frame, and a weak chin, which I have always found to be telling about a man’s character.
He returned my salute with what I could only describe as indifference, then turned back to Pollio as if I was not in the room. “As governor and commander of the province, duly appointed by the Senate, I command you to go in pursuit of the rebel Sextus Pompey immediately. In fact, I'm surprised that you haven't done so before this, and it makes me wonder about your loyalty.”
I could feel my mouth drop; this display of rudeness between members of the upper class, particularly in front of a subordinate, was something that I have never witnessed, before or since, but I learned everything I needed to know about Lepidus in that exchange with Pollio.
As for Pollio, his face turned purple with rage, though his voice was controlled, albeit just barely, his words clipped. “I can assure you, Governor, that I am as loyal a man as you'll find. Perhaps if you had spent much time in the field with Caesar, you would have been able to witness my loyalty firsthand, but I understand that Rome and its pleasures are hard to leave behind.”
Now it was Lepidus’ turn to splutter with rage, as he pointed a stubby little finger at Pollio and hissed, “I must remind you that you're speaking to a superior, in every way I might add. My birth and ancestors are impeccable, whereas you're nothing but an upstart and low-born at that.”
And there was the nub of it, why Lepidus’ name and deeds will only be a footnote in history. It was also why I and the other Centurions abandoned him later. As I said, he was a small man in every way, but he thought that he was a great man simply because of who he was and who his ancestors had been. Caesar’s ancestry and bloodline was every bit as illustrious as someone like Lepidus, yet Caesar valued competence and intelligence above all else. He had accomplished more than any man in Roman history because of his farsightedness and open acceptance of men such as Pollio, and in a much smaller sense, myself. Lepidus was blinded to the abilities in others if their birth was not as exalted as his, and I was witnessing firsthand why he was never more than an annoyance and a bit of a joke.
The two noblemen were still ignoring me as they stood nose to nose, but ultimately, Lepidus had the rights of it, no matter how much both Pollio and I might have loathed him for it.
Finally, Pollio relented, while I was dismissed, but as I turned to leave Lepidus had one more nasty surprise in store for me. “Primus Pilus, I'll be inspecting your Legion in one third of a watch. Make them ready, and I expect them to meet my standards.”
I froze in place; sure that this was some sort of jest on his part but as I was to learn, among his other failings, Lepidus had absolutely no sense of humor. Even Pollio looked shocked, as I looked to him for help. The men were training; some of them were out at the stakes, others were working on mending gear, the normal activities of a Legion in training. To expect them to drop what they were doing, get their uniforms, weapons, and leathers in the kind of condition that would stand inspection by not just a commanding officer but a governor, was a further demonstration that Lepidus had his head firmly deposited up his anal cavity.
“Governor, may I suggest that perhaps you postpone your inspection for a few thirds of a watch at least? Surely you'd rather rest after your long journey,” Pollio oozed sincerity, their earlier differences apparently forgotten, but Lepidus was unmoved.
“Nonsense,” he retorted. “You insinuated that I know nothing of military affairs, and I'll show you that nothing could be further from the truth. I will hold inspection in one third of a watch.”
Pollio looked at me, then shrugged helplessly; he had tried, he was saying, but there was nothing to be done. As angry as I was at Lepidus, I was equally angry at Pollio, because it was his words that put Lepidus into this corner. His authority and knowledge had been challenged, so now he had to salvage some sort of victory. However, it would be at the expense of my Legion, and ultimately my career, for I had no doubt that as inept as Lepidus obviously was, he was determined to show everyone that he was some sort of military authority. The fact that he thought that he could prove his bona fides by holding a parade ground inspection was just an example of how little he actually did know, and all he would have to show for it would be half a Legion on the punishment list, along with a number of hugely embarrassed and angry Centurions and Optios. I saluted the both of them, executed a parade ground about-face, then stalked out of the headquarters.
~ ~ ~ ~
The inspection was every bit the fiasco that I expected. Ultimately Lepidus sealed his fate with not just the 10th that day, but after word of what he had done spread through the rest of the army, he earned the never-ending enmity of the Legionaries of Rome. My silent prediction of half the Legion ending up on the punishment list was off by a large amount; almost three-quarters of the Legion were found lacking in some way by Lepidus and his toadies, three loathsome little men who obviously wanted to curry favor with the governor. The whole ordeal took the better part of the day, and the only thing I can say that was positive about the experience was that it did more to unite the Legion than anything either any of the Centurions or I had done to that point. The one stroke of fortune was that Lepidus could not be bothered to stay long enough to witness any of the punishments that he prescribed for the men, which included about a half-dozen floggings for the more “egregious” offenses committed by the men, one of them being an improperly tied helmet strap, for which Lepidus ordered ten lashes, though he magnanimously announced to the sullen men that it would not be with the scourge. He claimed that he had pressing business elsewhere in the province and would be leaving in the morning, so for perhaps the first time in the history of the Roman army, not one man put on the list was actually punished, the matter being completely ignored the moment that Lepidus and his party was over the horizon.
~ ~ ~ ~
Pollio took leave just a day or two later, leaving me in nominal command of the camp until the return of Lepidus, a prospect that none of the Centurions found appealing, given what we had seen of the worm during his short stay. My biggest concern at that point was that with Pollio leaving, I would be in the dark about developments in the larger world, but he promised to keep me informed by messenger as he learned what was taking place. As much as Lepidus was personally despised, the one thing in his favor was that he was backing Antonius, though in real terms I did not think much of what he had to offer, since especially in those early days, Antonius was the logical choice for men like me and the other Centurions. By this time, Antonius had moved into Campania, where a large number of veterans of the 8th, 9th, and 10th were now settled. He had begun recruiting men for a period of service, though at the time he was not asking for a full enlistment. Supposedly, his biggest fear at that moment was Decimus Brutus, who under Senate authority had taken the governorship of Cisalpine Gaul, thereby commanding the 23rd through 25th Legions, which were now considered veterans. It was not until later that I learned that the real reason Antonius left Rome in the first place was because of his oppressive actions in the execution of a man named Amatius. This Amatius claimed to be the illegitimate grandson of Gaius Marius, whose name and memory still evoked a powerful pull on the common people, and after Caesar’s funeral, he had supposedly made claims that he would kill Cassius and Brutus for the murder of Caesar. Antonius, with little if any evidence, arrested Amatius, then had him executed without a trial, which endeared Antonius to the Senate, but made him extremely unpopular with the people. When the people gathered in the Forum to protest, Antonius ordered some men from the 7th, who were stationed on the Campus Martius, to strike down an unknown number of citizens. This was the real reason he left the city to raise an army, because the people of the Head Count were now baying for his blood as well. Meanwhile, a rake named Dolabella had been named as Consul by Caesar, but our general’s body was not yet cold when Dolabella turned on his memory, siding with The Liberators, making a number of speeches essentially blaming Caesar for his own death. Ironically, the other Consul for the year was none other than Antonius, but Dolabella and Antonius hated each other, meaning that any cooperation between them was bound to be non-existent. However, both of them were clearly attempting to curry favor with the Senate, though Antonius was trying to avoid going too far in his appeasement because of his very well-founded fear of Caesar’s veterans seeing him as being one of The Liberators. What I found particularly confusing about all this madness going on was how the assassins so cynically followed Caesar’s edicts, even though they had murdered him for his actions. As I mentioned, Decimus Brutus obeyed Caesar’s command to govern Cisalpine Gaul, while Trebonius did the same in taking the governorship of Asia, and Cimber took Bithynia, all of which Caesar had commanded. However, Cassius had been slated by Caesar to go to Syria, but for reasons I could not discern, the Senate actually blocked that move, choosing to send Dolabella in his place, while Brutus’ governorship of Macedonia was given to Antonius instead. By taking command of Syria, Dolabella was also taking over responsibility for the invasion of Parthia, which I could not imagine any of the army slated for this operation was happy about. It was somewhere about this time that things became truly interesting, as a new player entered the stage.