commission."
"What!" The old man's frown was terrible. "I cannot believe that a Scipio would turn down the most important command offered by the State in a hundred years! Explain yourself, Grandson!"
Marcus, veteran commander of legionaries that he was, quailed beneath the old man's displeasure. "Grandfather, you know that I am a soldier, like all men of our family back to the beginning of the Republic. But I am no more than that. This command calls for a diplomat, a scholar, a man of business. I am none of those. I can handle the role of military analyst, better than any other man of Rome, if I may say so. I'll render the Senate an analysis of every stone in the walls of Carthage, if I should get that far. Let the Senate assign me that position and I'll fulfill it with honor. But not the leadership."
The old man softened. "I understand your reservations, Grandson. But this is an opportunity you must not pass up. You must rise to the office, Marcus! You may surprise yourself. Besides, in those areas where you lack confidence, find subordinates who are expert, just as you did in the legions. Am I not right? Didn't you indebt yourself to the commanders of other legions to get the finest primus pilus you could? Did you not pass a few bribes to get the best supply man to be found?"
Marcus smiled wryly, remembering. "I did. He was a freedman named Numerius. He knew supply regulations that hadn't been written yet. He found winter boots for my legion that were better than anything available from the regular sources, and he got them well under the footwear budget."
Cyclops spread his hands. "You see?"
Marcus told him about the short conference after the Senate meeting.
The old man nodded. "Scaeva and Gabinius are good men, wise counselors. You should listen to them. They saw exactly what I have just advised you about. Flaccus is the scholar you want. So what if he is a wretched soldier? What you see as your weaknesses are tasks for subordinates anyway. Assign them their jobs, review their reports and post them to the Senate. That is a commander's duty, and it is the command position that counts. Accept it, Marcus!"
No family conference was required, it seemed. If Cyclops said Marcus was to accept the Senate's commission, then the matter was settled. He was going to Italy.
Chapter 4
The expedition set out in a drizzling rain. It was not a military expedition, so there was no fanfare, no music, no crowds of young girls to shower them with flower petals. As they made their way through the city, people watched them with curiosity, occasionally shouting good wishes, but generally the mood was quiet. It was not a glorious occasion, yet all felt that something of great consequence was at hand.
Marcus turned in his saddle to look back along the line of men following him. There were forty members in the official party, mostly young, all of them from good families. Many were friends. A few were avowed enemies of his family. As to the rest, he would learn about them soon enough. Besides the official party, there were a score of slaves to tend the animals, set up camp and perform all the other tedious duties of such an expedition. There was no escort of soldiers. This was, ostensibly, a trade and diplomatic mission. The men of the official party were all soldiers, anyway.
The trek south toward the mountains would be through territory long held by the Romans, peaceful and free of brigands. Each man wore a sword belted to his side, but the other arms and military gear were carried by pack animals.
"Is this a good omen?" Flaccus asked, riding up beside Marcus.
"Omen? The augurs took them this morning and everything was favorable."
"I mean this rain. Surely, if Jupiter looked favorably upon this expedition, he would give us a warm, sunny morning to start it."
Marcus grinned. "But as Jupiter Pluvium he is the god of rain. This may be his blessing."
"I see we can look forward to many stimulating discussions of religion." Flaccus drew
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