Sword of Rome(37)
‘… Julius Civilis.’
Vitellius smiled. ‘Ah, and how is our Batavian Pompey?’
‘If you chain a wolf, I suppose you should not be surprised if he howls. Better that Nero should have executed him along with his brother. Better still if he had left them to rot in Britannia, and their savages with them. Fine soldiers the Batavians may be, but an auxiliary in his own land is a recipe for trouble. There’s bad feeling between the tribesmen and the legionaries who man our signal stations on the island. Bar brawls and the occasional stabbing.’
Vitellius frowned. A decision would have to be taken about Civilis, a prince of the Batavians, but also a Roman citizen. A year earlier he and his brother had been accused of treason. The brother had been executed, but for some reason Nero had spared Julius, and Galba had now sent him home in chains. It was a complication he didn’t need. ‘I am told to expect a delegation from Noviomagus in the next few days.’
Valens nodded. ‘They will ask you to release him as a signal of your trust and to make an auspicious start to your reign as governor.’
‘And you would advise what?’
‘A year ago …’ The other man hesitated and a shadow crossed his face that sent an even deeper chill through Vitellius. He had been a politician for more than thirty years and he recognized the signs that confirmed the hints that had been dropped in Moguntiacum.
‘Please continue,’ he said carefully.
‘A year ago I would have flayed his barbarian carcass and fed what was left to my catfish. The Batavians wouldn’t have liked it, but they would have accepted it because our strength and our resolve was not in doubt.’
‘And now?’
Valens, never a man to advertise his feelings, went as still as one of the statues of Vitellius’s predecessors that lined the walls. A leopard ready to make the final leap. ‘May I be frank, governor?’
Vitellius kept his face as impassive as his interlocuter’s, and the First Germanica’s general took it for assent to continue.
‘The situation has changed. This morning, you took the salute of the elite first cohorts of the four legions of Germania Inferior, as fine a body of men as ever carried a sword for the Empire. Most of them have soldiered on the Rhenus frontier for their entire service. It is a largely thankless duty; dull garrison work, extreme watchfulness, permanent readiness for war, and the occasional patrol beyond the river that is as likely to be ambushed as not. The opportunities for glory are slim. Likewise the opportunity for profit.’ Vitellius noted the change in tone that identified the importance of profit and nodded wisely. ‘Six months ago those same men marched into Gaul to put down the revolt of the traitor Gaius Julius Vindex. Many of them shed blood and lost friends, but they won a great victory; the traitor was dead and his army scattered. They were promised glory and plunder, and they believed they had won both. Yet soon they discovered that the traitor was no longer a traitor, but an ally of the new Emperor, Servius Sulpicius Galba. Their victory was for nothing.’ There was another subtle change in the voice as Valens continued, a hardening like ice forming on a pond. ‘Far from being glorious it brought them only ignominy and scorn. What booty they took had to be returned. Now they hear that the Emperor has lavished rewards on the Aedui, the Arverni and the Sequani, the very tribes they vanquished, while they have nothing to show but their wounds. As I am sure you have been told, the Rhenus legions are seldom happy with their lot, but I must tell you they have never been unhappier than they are now.’
As Valens continued, Vitellius carefully laid the cup he held on the table at his side and crossed his jewelled fingers to prevent the other man from seeing them shaking. The news of his troops’ unhappiness didn’t come as a surprise. Flaccus had suggested as much of his own legions, who resented the dismissal of their former commander, Verginius Rufus. Personally, Vitellius thought Verginius was fortunate to still have his head. The fact that he had turned his legions down when they tried to proclaim him Emperor only delayed the inevitable. Yet there was opportunity here as well as danger.
‘I will, of course, make suitable representations to the Emperor to ensure they receive the rewards they deserve,’ he said very deliberately. ‘My personal means do not allow me to make the gifts I would like to make, but I will do what I can. Arrange for me to visit each unit in turn, beginning with First Germanica, and make the occasion an awards ceremony. I’m sure some of your men were honoured for their actions at Vesontio, but it is the way of these things that exceptions are made and the deserving are missed. We will ensure that all who are worthy receive the promotions and phalerae they deserve.’ He smiled, thinking of his old friend Valerius Verrens. ‘Perhaps we might include at least one Gold Crown of Valour?’