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Alaudae and Twenty-first Rapax, that they have only recently returned to the camp outside the city and that they contain a substantial number of replacements.’
    ‘Does that satisfy you?’ Primus glared at the men around the table, but Varus carried on as if he hadn’t heard his commander.
    ‘In addition, elements of the Second and Twentieth legions, newly arrived from Britannia, are also billeted at Cremona, plus a detachment from the Ninth legion, which is currently garrisoning the city of Placentia.’
    ‘And the strength of these elements?’ Fulvus persisted.
    ‘Each detachment is not less than three thousand men, general.’
    Thank you,’ the Third Gallica’s commander said. ‘So the equivalent of three full legions at Cremona, not two. You fought in Britannia, Verrens? What was your assessment of the units stationed there?’
    Valerius glanced at Primus, and the army commander gave a reluctant nod.
    ‘Well-trained, hard fighters, toughened by campaigning in difficult terrain against an enemy who never gives up,’ he said. ‘But they haven’t fought a major battle since Suetonius Paulinus defeated the rebel queen Boudicca nine years ago. The Ninth had morale problems then, and if they’ve put them to guarding Placentia the situation may not have improved.’
    Fulvus thanked him. Primus gave another grunt and returned to his map.
    ‘So our enemy is split. An advance guard of two battered legions and three detachments in the north. Four others, or the major elements of them, currently making their way to the Padus, but still probably more than a week away.’ He met the gaze of each of the generals in turn. ‘A week.’
    ‘As you say, the Emperor urged caution,’ Lupus said warily. ‘How long will it take Licinius Mucianus to reach us with his Syrian legions?’
    It was a question designed to delay and give time to consider, because everyone knew the answer was at least a month.
    ‘We have one chance.’ Primus’s voice grew in strength. ‘One chance to smash Vitellius and present Titus Flavius Vespasian with the keys to Rome. A chance to make our names ring down through history, gentlemen. How many generals are given that opportunity?’
    ‘Mainly dead ones.’
    Primus greeted Messalla’s interruption with a tight smile that said it was the last time he would be so forgiving. No matter what was said at this conference he had already made up his mind. Had made it up, Valerius reckoned, even before he’d marched the Seventh from Carnuntum to link up with Aquila. Now he outlined the detail of his plan.
    ‘The town of Aquileia is the key that unlocks the door to Venetia, and if we take Venetia we have the gateway to the entire Padus valley in our hands.’ He turned to his cavalry commander. ‘Varus, you and your barbarians will test the enemy’s strength and dispositions, and if possible clear him from our route. In the meantime, Thirteenth Gallica and Seventh Galbiana will take the van under the direct command of General Aquila and march on Aquileia at their best pace. Seventh Claudia and Third Gallica will follow, with Eighth Augusta acting as rearguard. I have already given the auxiliary cohorts their instructions. They will protect our right flank and secure the Alpine passes against any potential incursions from Noricum and Raetia. Are there any questions?’
    ‘Supplies?’ Fulvus asked.
    ‘Another reason for acting with haste. We have sufficient rations for a week or ten days; when they are gone we will do what armies do. Live off the land.’ They all knew what that meant. Starving peasants and grieving mothers. Farmers – Roman farmers – butchered trying to protect their stocks against the foraging troops. Primus shrugged. ‘We are as well to go short on the march as stay here and go hungry.’
    ‘And when we take Aquileia?’ The question came from Messalla, who wore the resigned look of a man forced to choose between sharing a cage with a lion or a tiger. He had staked his