Read Cato 02 - The Eagles Conquest for Free Online Page B

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    ‘Sir, I request the privilege of leading the left flank attack.’
    Plautius folded his arms and cocked his head to one side as he considered Vespasian’s request. ‘Do you really think the Second can handle it? You’re under-strength, and I imagine your men wouldn’t be too pleased to find themselves in the thick of battle quite so soon after their recent experience.’
    Vespasian coloured. ‘I beg to differ, sir. I believe I speak for my men as much as for myself.’
    ‘Frankly, Vespasian, a moment ago I had no intention of even considering the Second for this duty. I was going to hold you in reserve, and let a fresh unit do the job. And I don’t see any reason why I should change my mind. Do you?’
    Unless Vespasian could quickly find reasons to justify the Second Legion’s position on the left flank, he would be doomed to live the rest of his tenure as a legate under a shroud of suspicion about his suitability for command. And if the men sensed that they were being denied an equal part in the campaign, and hence an equal share in the spoils, the Second’s morale and reputation would never recover. Their reputation had been bought over the years with the blood of thousands of comrades, under an eagle that had led them into battle for decades. If that was to end, then it would be over his dead body. Vespasian needed to be firm with his general.
    ‘Yes I do, sir. You seem to have been misinformed about the fighting spirit of my legion.’ And Vespasian guessed that Vitellius was the source of that misinformation. ‘The men are ready for it, sir. They’re more than ready, they’re thirsty for it. We need to avenge the men we’ve lost.’ ‘Enough!’ Plautius cut in. ‘You think that rhetoric will win out over reason? This is the front line, not the forum in Rome. I asked you to give me a good reason why I should give way.’
    ‘All right then, sir. I’ll speak straight to the point.’ ‘Please do.’
    ‘The Second is under-strength. But you don’t need a full legion for the attack. If it falls through, then you’ve only lost a unit that’s already been pretty badly cut up rather than a fresh legion.’ Vespasian looked at his general shrewdly. ‘I dare say that you want to keep as many fresh units to hand as possible, in case you have to fight Caratacus again. You can’t afford to face him with under-strength and tired forces across your battle line. Better to risk a more expendable unit now.’
    Plautius nodded as he listened approvingly to this altogether more cynical reasoning. It neatly reflected the hard realities of command and, in the same hard way, made the most sense.
    ‘Very well, Vespasian. A reprieve for you and your men then.’ Vespasian inclined his head in thanks. His heart jumped with excitement at having won his commander round, and then in anxiety at the dangerous duty for which he had just volunteered his men. He had been less than honest in his request to the general. He had no doubt that many of the men would curse him for it, but then soldiers complained about everything. They needed to fight. They needed a clear cut victory to boast about. To let the men continue in their present state of doubt about themselves would ruin the legion, and blight his career. Now that he had committed them to the attack he felt confident that the majority would share his desire to fight.
    ‘Your orders,’ Plautius stated formally, ‘are to proceed upriver at dawn. Locate the nearest ford and cross to the far bank. From there you will march downriver, avoiding contact with the Britons. You will wait in hiding until the headquarters trumpets blow your legion’s recognition signal, at which point you will join the assault on that hill. Is that clear?’
    ‘Yes, sir. Perfectly.’
    ‘Hit them hard, Vespasian. As hard as you can.’ ‘Yes, sir.’
    ‘Your written orders will be with you later today. You’d best be on your way. I want you moving before daybreak. Now