"Yes, but my enemies are wrong, whereas I am right. His own father to command the main army! How could he make his dynastic ambitions more plain? And taking his army on a complete circuit of the Middle Sea! He's just doing it because no one else has done it before!"
Flaccus nodded somberly. "Yes, the expense in boots and hobnails alone must be staggering."
"Don't be flippant," Marcus said disgustedly.
"You know he's overreaching himself. His battle experience hasn't been great, and Carthage will be throwing its best against him. He's being set up to fail; that's the only explanation why the Senate has gone along with his harebrained scheme."
Scipio refilled his cup and stared into it gloomily. "It's not that bad a scheme, you know, just ambitious. I might have proposed such a thing myself, only I would have waited until all these new legions were more experienced and our leadership had a better grasp of how to command and coordinate so many men. As it is, there are too many ways for things to go wrong. We'll be trying to coordinate the movements of large armies over vast distances…" He trailed off, his eyes going vacant.
That was more like it, Flaccus thought. Now his friend was going over the possibilities in his mind, finding applications for the new inventions of the Archimedean school.
"They say Norbanus has a pair of Eastern women to read the stars for him," Flaccus remarked. "Alexandria is full of astrologers and I have been speaking with the Egyptian and Greek priests about them. They seem about evenly divided whether the stars are of any use in foretelling the future. Norbanus seems to set great store by these two."
"It's a weakness," Scipio said. "They're just telling him what he wants to hear."
"That has long been a major part of the seer's art," Flaccus said. "That and being equivocal, making statements that could be interpreted more than one way and fitting any outcome."
"What are you getting at?" Marcus asked, knowing his friend all too well.
"As you pointed out, this reliance upon soothsayers is a weakness, and an enemy's weakness is something to be exploited."
"Subvert his astrologers? But how? They are rather far away, you know."
"True, true. But we are in the process of turning the Middle Sea into a Roman lake. The Archimedeans have designed some extremely swift vessels. Why should we not wish to keep in contact with Norbanus's army on its march? It only makes military sense."
"It does," Scipio agreed. "The Senate will resent such collusion. They would prefer to hold the reins."
"What of it?" Flaccus asked. "We now have armies spread out over vast distances. Our generals will be nearly autonomous of necessity, whatever the Senate wants. What's sitting in Rome right now is an elderly pack of old soldiers reminiscing about their younger days when Roman soldiers were real Romans. They think what we're doing is the same as fighting German tribesmen on the Northern Sea."
Marcus was silent for a while. "No, we can't do it."
"What? Keep in contact with Norbanus's army?"
"No, that's an excellent idea. I mean we can't subvert these prophetesses or whatever they are."
"Whyever not? The opportunity is there. Norbanus is your enemy. Do something to him before he does it to you. It's the sensible thing to do."
"Should I endanger Rome for the sake of a personal vendetta? My sabotage might result in a Roman defeat. It's not something I can do just to trump a man I detest."
Flaccus sighed. "Marcus, you are a splendid soldier. You are a genuine visionary. But you are a political infant. To defeat a rival, you use whatever comes to hand. These Judean woman are a gift from the gods which you spurn at your peril."
"Still, I reject them. Let the gods punish me for rejecting their favor."
At this Flaccus held his counsel.
The next morning they were at the naval shipyard, which had been all but taken over by the Archimedean school. There were vessels under construction and on the slips and in the water that were unlike anything ever seen before.
There were also many craft of foreign design brought by the queen's order from the most distant waters. Their hull and sail designs were copied, analyzed and experimented with.
"What about that madman with the steam project?" Scipio asked the ship philosopher, head of the facility. He was a Spanish Greek named Archelaus.
"Worthless," he said. "He's trying to adapt it to water wheels and screw-type water raisers using a system of metal tubes and rods and sliding cylinders, but it can't possibly work."
"Why not?" Scipio asked.
"Two reasons. One is the weight. Even if the machine can be made to work, it will require a great weight of metal. Another is the fire. The last thing you want on a ship is a big fire. And you'd have to go ashore constantly to replenish the firewood. No, it has no real advantage over rowers, who need nothing but food."