Read Online Marius' Mules V: Hades' Gate by S.J.A. Turney - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: S.J.A. Turney
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not play in the politics of the city, but one of your ancestors served as a commander under Scipio Africanus if I'm not mistaken." He waved a hand dismissively, causing air currents to eddy the sweet smoke. "Enough dissembling and argument. I need my best men in the most important positions and that means you taking over your old legion. No one knows them better than you."
One man does .
"True, I suppose, general, but I'm no commander. Can you really not give it to anyone else? And bear in mind I have weakened bones and a gammy leg."
"I told you, Priscus. I'm short on talented officers. Fronto's gone, Cita retired, Rufus returned to Rome to deal with his family troubles, Galba moving up the political ladder and leaving the military behind. I've lost four good officers in half a year, plus a number of the better tribunes and lesser commanders. And with Crassus and Balbus gone not long before them, things are becoming stretched. New officers will be arriving in due course, but they will be green and untried. With the Treveri brewing a revolt and Britannia standing defiant I need the cream of the Roman military by my side. As for your physical issues, even weakened you're twice as strong as Cicero or Plancus, and your leg is only actually bad enough to inconvenience you when it's cold and wet."
"It's always cold and wet here, Caesar."
"And I've even seen you run on it these past few months. No, you may not be what you were three years ago, but you've recovered far beyond the expectations of any of the medics. So that's it: you take command of the Tenth. You don't need to worry about any of the transfers. I've decided on them myself and informed those concerned, and I will promote a replacement for you in due course when I have the opportunity."
"My centurions will piss themselves, general."
"I think not. I've met them. Those remarkably few who don't hold you in high esteem are frightened enough of you they wouldn't even whimper at your appointment. I do have two sets of transfers I've decided to leave to you, though, as they both concern you. That excellent standard bearer of yours - Petrosidius - who took the initiative on the beach last year? I'm moving him to the Eighth to take on their eagle, as their aquilifer passed on during the winter and an eagle deserves a good man. So you'll have to promote appropriately among the Tenth."
Priscus nodded unhappily. The thought of losing Petrosidius to the Eighth was irksome. Not only were veteran signifers hard to come by, but the grumpy old sod was one of Priscus' oldest friends too.
"And the other thing is your two spies - the centurions whose names escape me."
"Furius and Fabius, general."
"Yes. I need to move them from the Seventh. I have two other veteran centurions who have requested to be transferred out of Plancus' Fourteenth. It seems they are at serious loggerheads with their commander and they're about due their honesta missio. If I don't grant them their transfer they might leave the service and I'm not about to let veteran centurions go willingly at the moment. I'd like to bolster Cicero's command with quality men that I know will be utterly loyal."
"Does it have to be Furius and Fabius, general? They're the top two centurions in the legion. Moving them could have knock-on effects."
"I'm afraid it'll have to be. The two officers in question from the Fourteenth are Vorenus and Pullo. They're the top officers of Plancus' legion, so they'll be taking your men's positions. I know you'll find the pair some appropriate position with your last act as camp prefect."
Priscus' jaw firmed. "With respect, sir, there's precious few places a senior centurion can move to that aren't a demotion. They'll not be happy."
"Then you'd best make sure they are."
"Do I have free rein, sir?"
"Indeed."
Priscus nodded once and straightened. "Then I'd like to assign them the rank of Tribune and attach them to the Tenth under me."
Caesar's eyes narrowed. "They're both low rankers,
One man does .
"True, I suppose, general, but I'm no commander. Can you really not give it to anyone else? And bear in mind I have weakened bones and a gammy leg."
"I told you, Priscus. I'm short on talented officers. Fronto's gone, Cita retired, Rufus returned to Rome to deal with his family troubles, Galba moving up the political ladder and leaving the military behind. I've lost four good officers in half a year, plus a number of the better tribunes and lesser commanders. And with Crassus and Balbus gone not long before them, things are becoming stretched. New officers will be arriving in due course, but they will be green and untried. With the Treveri brewing a revolt and Britannia standing defiant I need the cream of the Roman military by my side. As for your physical issues, even weakened you're twice as strong as Cicero or Plancus, and your leg is only actually bad enough to inconvenience you when it's cold and wet."
"It's always cold and wet here, Caesar."
"And I've even seen you run on it these past few months. No, you may not be what you were three years ago, but you've recovered far beyond the expectations of any of the medics. So that's it: you take command of the Tenth. You don't need to worry about any of the transfers. I've decided on them myself and informed those concerned, and I will promote a replacement for you in due course when I have the opportunity."
"My centurions will piss themselves, general."
"I think not. I've met them. Those remarkably few who don't hold you in high esteem are frightened enough of you they wouldn't even whimper at your appointment. I do have two sets of transfers I've decided to leave to you, though, as they both concern you. That excellent standard bearer of yours - Petrosidius - who took the initiative on the beach last year? I'm moving him to the Eighth to take on their eagle, as their aquilifer passed on during the winter and an eagle deserves a good man. So you'll have to promote appropriately among the Tenth."
Priscus nodded unhappily. The thought of losing Petrosidius to the Eighth was irksome. Not only were veteran signifers hard to come by, but the grumpy old sod was one of Priscus' oldest friends too.
"And the other thing is your two spies - the centurions whose names escape me."
"Furius and Fabius, general."
"Yes. I need to move them from the Seventh. I have two other veteran centurions who have requested to be transferred out of Plancus' Fourteenth. It seems they are at serious loggerheads with their commander and they're about due their honesta missio. If I don't grant them their transfer they might leave the service and I'm not about to let veteran centurions go willingly at the moment. I'd like to bolster Cicero's command with quality men that I know will be utterly loyal."
"Does it have to be Furius and Fabius, general? They're the top two centurions in the legion. Moving them could have knock-on effects."
"I'm afraid it'll have to be. The two officers in question from the Fourteenth are Vorenus and Pullo. They're the top officers of Plancus' legion, so they'll be taking your men's positions. I know you'll find the pair some appropriate position with your last act as camp prefect."
Priscus' jaw firmed. "With respect, sir, there's precious few places a senior centurion can move to that aren't a demotion. They'll not be happy."
"Then you'd best make sure they are."
"Do I have free rein, sir?"
"Indeed."
Priscus nodded once and straightened. "Then I'd like to assign them the rank of Tribune and attach them to the Tenth under me."
Caesar's eyes narrowed. "They're both low rankers,
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