FOR WANT OF THE HAMMER
- Thread starter tuareg109
- Start date
tuareg109
Banned
@altwere, @Grouchio Thanks! It's better to be paranoid than to be convinced that bad writing is good.
Thanks; as for maps, I don't really need them at this point. Nothing I'm describing really needs a map, and the world is changing very slowly when going post-to-post.
If you mean that I need more battle maps, then I sort of see your point. But I am no artist!
Thanks; as for maps, I don't really need them at this point. Nothing I'm describing really needs a map, and the world is changing very slowly when going post-to-post.
If you mean that I need more battle maps, then I sort of see your point. But I am no artist!
Well, *I* do!
I mean more campaign and battle maps, yes. Even crude paint map would be helpful, as I'm easily lost in this sort of things (I'm perfectly concious of being hypocrital, not doing what I ask for my own TL, but anyway, I'm easily lost)
My only quibble--the men selling hot tea.
A drink the Romans, alas, have no knowledge of. (And of course, they doubtless had some equivalent, but still...)
A drink the Romans, alas, have no knowledge of. (And of course, they doubtless had some equivalent, but still...)
tuareg109
Banned
FOR WANT OF THE HAMMER
THE TRIAL--ARGUMENTS, 647 AVC
THE TRIAL--ARGUMENTS, 647 AVC
The witnesses having been heard the day before, the trial continued the next day--the first day of April--with about half the previous day's crowd attending. Even with half the trial left to go, the verdict was virtually assured; Gaius Fulcinius and Spurius Dellius stood on the rostra that morning grinning like madmen, and frowning Scaurus and Lucius Pontifex Maximus stood sternly with the smug-looking Drusus and Scipio Nasica.
Scaurus and the Pontifex Maximus had decided after the events of the previous day to swallow their pride and join with Drusus and Scipio Nasica in defending Catulus Caesar. Despise him though they might, they despised and--more importantly--feared Gaius Fulcinius much more. To see another Gaius Gracchus, a man wishing to destroy the prerogatives of the Senate, successful...well, that was unthinkable. Better that every general and governor was a Catulus Caesar, than for Gaius Fulcinius to succeed in his plans of overthrowing the Senate. They hadn't known before the 31st of March what the Crowd was, what it could be, what it could do; it could rip them apart limb from limb...if they did not lead it correctly.
Spurius Dellius was euphoric because of his success and his spot in the limelight, and because a letter he'd gotten from Gaul of all places just that night:
To the Praetor Urbanus Spurius Dellius,
I understand that the outlook looks grim for our Boni and their supporters this year, and that the insufferable air of populism which you espouse will likely endure into next year's selection of magistrates and political atmosphere.
Now, I'd like to make a deal with you. I know that you are a man of honor; if you take my course of action, you'll no doubt be obliged to oblige me. No doubt after your Praetorship this year, you'll want Propraetorian command of a province; you'll want to go where everybody wants to go, I expect. Sicily, Africa, Corsica et Sardinia; fat grain provinces. Or, failing that, you'll want Asia or Greece; distant provinces that you can squeeze of every coin without worry.
Knowing you to be of a military bent, you'd no doubt prefer Macedonia or Gallia Transalpina. But you won't get them, will you? No! Lucius Cassius Longinus is doing so well in Macedonia--even I here in the backwoods of nowhere hear of Quintus Servilius Caepio Junior's praise of him--that for all your pleading, Gaius Fulcinius likely will decline to take his command away from him. The men know him, the Illyrian and Thracian tribes are afraid of him, and he's well-liked by the Equestrians. Gallia Transalpina is by now a purely Proconsular province. The situation here is--to the armchair generals in Rome--out of a mere Propraetors hands.
You can see I've purposely ignored two provinces. The two Hispaniae! But why? Well, I'll tell you, and--if you're smart--you'll listen. I, having been blessed by the Fortuna with a ball-freezingly cold command tramping through Tolosa and all over Aquitania, have been party to information that others have not. My superior Publius Rutilius, for example, does not know that the Germans have almost completed their trek across the Pyrenees. Did you? Ah, I can imagine the look of surprise on that simian face of yours.
Now you have that information. Act on it, and become governor of both Hispaniae--no difficult feat, for they've been peaceful for so long--and request me as your Legate. That's all I ask. The war against the Germans is moving out of the sphere of Gallia Transalpina and I very much doubt that a friend or colleague of mine--such as a man of the Boni--will be given command in Spain.
I wish to continue my work against the Germans, and I can teach you all I've learned of them. Imagine, being a mere Propraetor, and victor against the Germans; I too don't pretend to be doing this for love of Rome. I want to be a part of this.
Lucius Cornelius Sulla
Spurius Dellius, being a sensible man and ambitious for glory and the Consulship, had immediately drawn a sheet of the best Pergamum parchment to him and begun drafting the eagerly accepting response that made Sulla smile in amusement a few weeks hence.
He was drawn back into the present when Gaius Fulcinius nudged him and indicated the waiting masses of people--about half the people that had been present yesterday, for a combination of the cold and a foregone conclusion had driven most inside their homes. Shivering a little and still wondering at how Gaius Fulcinius managed to remain unaffected, Spurius Dellius stepped forward and projected his voice.
"Romans, we heard yesterday the witness for the Prosecution; the Defense had no witnesses to speak of. Now we will hear the closing arguments; first of the Prosecutor, Gaius Fulcinius."
The crowd cheered as Spurius Dellius stepped back and Fulcinius forward. Gaius Fulcinius raised his arms for silence, and the Crowd obeyed his command. Scaurus shivered--not with the cold, and Fulcinius began. "My friends, citizens of this great nation of Rome, I am here today to present my case against Quintus Lutatius Catulus Caesar. I ask now, have I not already done that? Is not his guilt manifest? You heard the testimony of good young Gnaeus Matius--a man who was there, Quirites, a man who saw with his own eyes the suffering and horrible death that were the result of the actions of the Defendant. Death under the shit-covered boots of several hundred thousand whooping barbarians; far from home and far from their mothers and wives, these young men--many scarcely boys!--had heads and chests and bodies hewn in twain, all so that Quintus Lutatius could scramble up the valley's slopes like a rat, and escape.
"He watched them die with cold, apathetic eyes, for he regards his paltry ancestors--riding on the coattails of better men with 'low birth', as they term it!--as more important than fifty thousand Roman lives. There is truly nothing else to say, Quirites. This manifest and savage injustice must end."
He stepped back to waves of cheers and applause. His new, simplistic style was really catching on with the Crowd. It took several minutes for the cheers to die down, and Scaurus and the rest of Boni began to sweat despite the cold; despair filled them, for if they had been unable to defend Marcus Junius Silanus, how could they hope to defend Quintus Lutatius? They had agreed beforehand that the strategy of one-on-one must be continued; Gaius Fulcinius would look like a victim against the entire Senate, but as an unequal and superior oratorical specimen against one man.
Still, they could not restrain the eager Lucius Licinius Crassus Orator from wanting to speak in defense of Catulus Caesar. He'd had argument from Catulus Caesar's brother Lucius Julius Caesar--for a few minutes, until he'd made Lucius Julius understand that they needed the best of the best--and a man not closely tied to the Boni or Catulus Caesar--to succeed. In addition, Lucius Julius had been a moderate as Quaestor and in his capacity as Orator in the Forum for years, and was well known; he, unlike such well-known conservatives as Lucius Pontifex Maximus or Drusus, might just pull it off.
"Okay," said Scaurus with his hand on Lucius Licinius's shoulder as the applause died down. "Are you ready, son?"
"Ready?" asked Lucius Licinius with a faint smile on his face. "I was born ready." The sweat on his brow betrayed his nervousness.
Crassus Orator's good friend Quintus Caecilius Metellus Nepos--called so because he was every senior Caecilius's nephew, but no man's son (his father Quintus Balearicus had died some years previous)--seized him by the arm and said, "Oh, good luck! I can't bear to watch, I'm going home!" And he turned on his heel and left the assembled Boni astounded.
"Well," said Quintus Mucius Scaevola Pontiff after a few seconds, and shook his head. "In any case, he's right. Good luck, brother." Quintus Mucius Scaevola was married to Licinia Prima, who was the sister of Lucius and Publius Licinius Crassus.
"Good luck, brother," echoed Publius Licinius Crassus. With a wave of well-wishes and pats on the back, Lucius Licinius Crassus mounted the steps to the rostra and gazed down onto the crowd. He'd seen Gaius Fulcinius sneer at him as he stepped up; ignoring this, he kept his eyes forward and on the assembled Romans. He stood down looking on the crowd for several seconds with a stern gaze; in one so young, it yet managed to have the effect of a disciplinarian grandfather on the Romans. They noticed the gaze and stopped whispering and speaking, shamefaced.
When silence prevailed, he began: "My fellow citizens of this esteemed city, state, and empire of Rome, I am here to tell you the truth. I make no postulations and no presumptions; unlike the Prosecutor Gaius Fulcinius, I do not embellish or add to my statements. His is a tale fit for religion, whereas my statements comprise a truth that is fit for law and statecraft."
At the end of this sentence, the heckling began. Scaurus and the Boni, comparing notes afterward, were sure that the men were clerks and copiers--devious men good with words and the manipulation of words--who were hired by Fulcinius to tear Lucius Licinius's carefully prepared speech apart. In fact, they later became sure that Gaius Fulcinius had had a spy in their camp who stole or copied down much of the speech; they were right in this, though they did not know it--Lucius Licinius Lucullus stood with the Boni looking eager. What they did not know was that he was eager for Fulcinius's agents to tear the speech apart; he'd been enraged when he'd heard the news that Scaurus and Lucius Pontifex Maximus decided to join with Drusus and Scipio Nasica again, and had immediately gone to Gaius Fulcinius--four hours before daylight in the bitterest cold, this is--to hand over the speech.
So Gaius Fulcinius's hecklers had their material: "Laws are lies! What do you know?" "Fit for religion? Then why does our esteemed Pontifex Maximus stand at your shoulder?" "Blasphemy! You offend the gods!" "Fellow citizens! Look how you Senators live. Do you think you're kings?" "A king! Catulus Caesar wants to make himself King!"
The effect was immediate. The Crowd buzzed for only a few seconds before the cries were taken up by half of them. The other half moved to the edges of the Crowd and began to melt away, wishing to be no part of the riot that seemed sure to follow. Lucius Licinius, aghast at this violent reception of his speech, looked back at Scaurus--now leader again, with ascendancy over Drusus and Scipio Nasica.
Scaurus, staring up at him with two bright red spots burning in his pale cheeks, shook his bald head vehemently. None of them wanted to die that day. The Boni walked home with a jeering, snapping mob at its heels. Spurius Dellius--wishing to observe all the strict legal forms--declared that the jury would assemble and the verdict be read out the following morning.
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tuareg109
Banned
FOR WANT OF THE HAMMER
GALLIA TRANSALPINA PART 3, 647 AVC
GALLIA TRANSALPINA PART 3, 647 AVC
Quintus Caecilius Metellus sat at his desk writing to Sulla. The only contact he had had with the outside world for the past two months had been with letters going south and east through Massilia; the cold was such that the alpine passes were blocked, and that no messenger would dare venture north of Arausio or west of Narbo, let alone into barbarian Aquitania or Gallia Comata. However, it was now the tenth day of Aprilis, and the warmth was returned--a true warmth, the constantly shuttling Massiliotes assured him.
Sulla had continued sending men--quite ruthlessly, in Quintus Caecilius's opinion--through the heavy snows that blanketed the hills and made road indiscernible from gully, and so had remained tenuously in contact. Publius Rutilius Rufus had less stomach for using his men harshly, and so he was safe--safe, or dead--and probably warm too, in the oppidum of some Gallic king, but incommunicado.
The supply issue was as yet unresolved but Quintus Caecilius, caring for his men, had used the war chest appropriately, and used some heavy negotiation to receive better deals from the Massiliotes; he bought in bulk, and received a discount. After all, the food--when properly stored--could last forever, but excess gold spent would disappear.
He was in the middle of his letter, sitting there with four--instead of the usual six; the weather was warming up, after all!--wolf pelts draped over his shoulders, when the tribune on command detail marched in.
"Sir, troops sighted by scouts two hours ago to the northwest. They have confirmed that it is Gnaeus Pompeius and his two legions, returning from the Massif Central."
"Ah!" Metellus jumped up, abandoning the letter. "Excellent, are they almost here?"
"Yes, Sir. They're just outside the gates."
"Well, let them in! We have room for twelve legions, after all," said Metellus. The tribune saluted and left to give his orders to the waiting legionary who'd been sent by the guards on duty. Metellus strapped on his sword belt and left the tent, setting out for the north gate--the men hurrying there and the faraway guards craning their necks told him Gnaeus Pompeius's location.
As he neared the gate he saw that the gates had been opened, and that Gnaeus Pompeius's legions were streaming inside in an orderly manner. He noticed that losses seemed to be low, but the men all looked thin; and then he saw Gnaeus Pompeius and Gnaeus Octavius Ruso enter on their horses. They dismounted just outside the gate and saw him.
Even Gnaus Pompeius's stocky frame had suffered from lack of food, and Gnaeus Octavius Ruso was downright skinny. "Fellow tribunes!" said Quintus Caecilius to them when they'd walked over to him, and shaking their hands warmly. Pompeius seemed indifferent, but Ruso almost fainted from thankfulness; it seemed as though Pompeius's army had been short on kindness in the harsh months in the high hills of the Massif Central.
"Quintus Caecilius," said Pompeius in greeting. "Gah, it's so damned cold! Why don't we retire to your tent; you know I didn't get a proper commander's tent, so I've been sleeping in the same underwear for two months."
Quintus Caecilius's mouth became an "O" of surprise until he decided that that was a joke, and laughed. Pompeius's face showed that it wasn't a joke, and Metellus hastily said, "Well then, let's. You know I only have to wear four wolf pelts instead of six; the season is finally warming up."
"Yes," said Pompeius as they marched down the Via Praetoria toward the Principia--the commander's tent. The bustle and movement of the slaves and servants of Metellus's two legions helping the slaves and servants of Pompeius's legions to transport the goods and pack animals into the camp sounded all around them as Pompeius continued, "Maybe our damned Pontifex Maximus should make this the new January."
Quintus Caecilius, well aware that Pompeius knew that the Pontifex Maximus was his uncle, elected to say nothing. Ruso asked, "Ah, what's there to eat?"
"Whatever the Massiliotes provide," said Metellus, eager to brag. "I made a great deal with them, and the men are well fed. There'll be enough for your men, of course; more than enough."
"Good," said Ruso.
"Good, I'm starving," roared Pompeius. "Give the men pigshit, I don't care; I just don't want to see another wild boar in my life. It's enough meat to give a man hemorrhoids."
Quintus Caecilius was again surprised and a bit offended at this display of vulgarity. Embarrassed for Ruso, who'd obviously suffered over the winter, he said, "Lunch can wait another hour. Why don't you two sit down in my tent and tell me what happened on the Massif?"
Pompeius grumbled and mumbled, but assented in the end. After flinging himself down in the tent and rubbing his hands together with many murmurs of appreciation and thanks for the warmth, he began simply: "We got there soon enough, and marched right into the middle of the mess. I made a winter camp somewhere on the Oltis River, and we set to work. I took one legion, and Gnaeus Octavius Ruso here held the fort; when my men and I felt our balls would freeze off, we returned and let Ruso and the other boys have a turn. And that's how we did it all these three months or so." He thought back and then nodded, satisfied that the time frame had been right.
"And...what did you do?" asked Metellus after a lengthy pause.
"I spent the first two weeks hammering at the Gabali; they're a small tribe, but their position in the middle of those godforsaken mountains makes them fierce. Admirable people. Damned barbarians. Almost all the men I lost were to them; we had no way home and were low on supplies, so we reduced every oppidum, and took all their supplies."
Southern Gallic tribes in 647 AVC
"And what happened to them?"
Pompeius shrugged. "We killed them, and they starved, and they froze to death. I guess the Ruteni and Arverni might have taken some survivors in; it would have been women, mostly."
Ruso's shiver showed what he thought of the survivors' fate.
Quintus Caecilius shook his head, clearing it of the images that came into it, and said, "And then what?"
"So we essentially destroyed the Gabali, and had enough supplies to make larger forays. We were always careful, and the Gauls were astounded at our speed--Roman adaptability and all that, right? Ruso took a turn against the Vellavi, and we crushed them together with the Arverni--turns out Gallia Transalpina isn't the only part of the world that these Massif tribes like to raid nonstop. After that I took my legion down into the lower Oltis valley--fancied myself a bit of warmth--and had some fights with the Cadurci.
"I came back up to the camp when the weather warmed up, and took my legion and five cohorts [half] of the other against the Ruteni. They were all accepting early in January, but the fighting had gotten them nervous. Thought that Rome would turn their way. Well, I did; I went along the Massif and all during that warm spell sacked every oppidum in my way. They aren't quite as destroyed as the Gabali, but I know that they won't bother us for another ten years."
"Oh, Gnaeus Pompeius!" shouted Metellus, whose face had begun registering outrage halfway through this speech. "The Ruteni were our anchor in the Massif! They told us what was going on, and kept the other tribes down! You...you...you monster!"
Gnaues Pompeius cracked a careless smile, revealing scurvy-plagued gums, and asked deviously, "Is that the worst you're going to call me?"
Lucius Cornelius Sulla sat in Narbo on his way to regroup in Arelate. It was three weeks since the trial of Catulus Caesar (thought Sulla didn't know it yet), and ten days since Gnaeus Pompeius's return to Arelate. In that time, Publius Rutilius had returned pale but successful from Gallia Comata: No German would pass through the lands of the Aedui, the Aulerci, the Remi, the Lingones, the Leuci, or the Sequani without Rome's knowing about it. Sulla was in fact quite impressed by how far Publius Rutilius had managed to travel with four legions during the harsh winter of Gallia Comata; sure, he'd had help from the native tribes--all eager to please Rome in face of the German menace, but he'd also had to travel along the dirt tracks they called roads, and through drifts of snow five and sometimes ten feet deep.
Sulla, in Tolosa then, had received a letter from Quintus Caecilius just a few days ago to that affect, and was now hastening to regroup. For his plan to work it was essential that everybody think the Germans were still in Gaul, and not moving into Hispania Citerior. Once it became well known that they were in Hispania--which meant two or three months at least--Spurius Dellius was sure to block any move to expand Publius Rutilius's imperium, and Sulla would be in Spain as Legate against the Germans once more. In Hispania, however, his command was sure to be even more independent, and he was sure to have more resources at his disposal. Plus, Hispania wasn't so damned cold.
At the moment, however, Sulla was quite warm. He had dined once more in the house of the duumvir Publius Cornelius; it was heartwarming to see his bickering with Quintus Lutatius Vergobretus again. All in all, most of Sulla's soldiers had survived, despite the conditions and the brief yet exciting raids against the Germans; surely the Germans, white though they were, now had tales of an albino Roman ghost leading an army from hell out of the snow to scare their children with. He hoped that they'd be surprised when he showed up again, in Hispania.
Yes, his soldiers had survived, and none of his lieutenants were worse for wear. Marcus Antonius Gallus was his right-hand man as far as the rest of the campaign was concerned, and he was thinking of getting the man elected Military Tribune in Rome, to continue the good work--this time, in Hispania. Gaius Julius Caesar Strabo Vopiscus had learned much, and had earned a reputation with the man as a fair and gentle leader--not quite Sulla's style, but its appeal combined with Strabo's cross-eyed nature made for a strangely endearing and homely mix.
Marcus Livius Drusus Junior had done even better. Changed by Sulla's steady and slow influence, he was moving away from the idiotic orneriness that his father had set in him, and was moving toward new ideas. Namely, such an idea as that Marcus Antonius Gallus--and other New Men besides--had much value. The Rome of Marcus Livius Drusus Senior was not the same Rome that his son dreamed of, anymore. Sulla would request him for Hispania, too.
Now Sulla sat on his hard bed in Narbo, and a servant knocked softly at the door. "Come in, what is it?" said Sulla all at once.
The servant entered, bowing. "Dominus, a messenger from Arelate has arrived with this letter for you." Sulla took the letter and the man bowed out.
He turned it over in his hands, wondering if it was from Rufus or Piglet, and opened it. The handwriting was unfamiliar, and his eyes widened and leapt across the page as he read:
Lucius Cornelius Sulla,
Ah, such a joyous day! Be sure to convey the good news to my son, and indeed let him read the letter, do! I only write to you because it is less appropriate for more-or-less official news to come to you through a subordinate. Well, the trial of Quintus Lutatius Catulus is over!
And I'll make it brief, and tell you what happened. Gaius Fulcinius produced some shabby witness--a young man supposedly from Teanum Sidicinum, and who was allegedly at Arausio (there's no record of him, you know!) [of course, thought Sulla, because the records were trampled by the Germans]--named Gnaeus Matius, who moved those idiots of the Third and Fourth Classes to tears! Well they howled and they cried, and we decided that intervention would result in a lynching. So the Defense had no witness.
And then the next day the arguments were given. Oh, what a travesty! Fulcinius talked for perhaps two minutes with no style at all, calling Quintus Lutatius every name under the sun. When Lucius Licinius Crassus Orator--using every oratorical skill at his disposal!--stepped up to refute these vile lies, agents of Fulcinius's began to heckle him, and we of the Boni fled for our lives! [Sulla began to wonder how much of this was true, and how off his gourd Marcus Livius Drusus Senior had gone]
But then, ah then, the third day came. The Verdict. And we had our revenge. Scaurus and Metellus had come over to the right side again, after seeing Fulcinius's terrible power--I swear, he's another Gracchus. [Sulla's thin white lips had drawn down in a monstrous frown upon reading that Scaurus and Lucius Pontifex Maximus had switched sides. Good, another Gracchus needs to come to kill you all] It was cold then, you know, the second day of Aprilis. It looks as though so many thought that the verdict was assured that they didn't come, so it was only the fifty Equestrians of the jury, and maybe five hundred men come to watch...and us. Oh, it was brilliant, Lucius Cornelius! You would have participated with such alacrity! [Too bad you didn't hold your breath on it]
Led by Quintus Caecilius Metellus Nepos--I see now that that's why he disappeared on the day of the arguments--were the sons of Senators and the wealthiest Equestrians, and the other Equestrians on our side, and those Equestrians that are our cousins and brothers, but who dabble too much in business or have too little interest in politics to want to join the Senate. With them were some ex-gladiatorial rabble, and a host of unhappy clients. But I tell you, Lucius Cornelius, that those client, and those ex-gladiators, and those brilliant young men did their job!
They stood on the Clivus Capitolinus looking right down into the Well of the Comitia, silent as death. Nobody saw them until they drew their swords and began banging and banging on their shields and on their greaves and on the cobblestones of the street. The whole six hundred or so men who were there--oh, and I was there, oh!--looked up, and I saw Gaius Fulcinius go so white in the face that I fancied it was you standing there in front of me! [Sulla reared up on the bed and then stood, clenching a fist. Gaius Fulcinius?! That ugly son of a donkey-loving barbarian scum I'll fucking kill that this Drusus godsdamnthemall--]
When the red receded from the front of Sulla's eyes and his faculties returned to him, he read the little bit that was left:
Well that settled the Knights' decision quite quickly, didn't it? Conviction and four swords for each soft, fat belly that had never been to war; or Absolution, and it's off home to the wife and kids? Ah, it's fresh in my mind, Lucius Cornelius; not one dissenting voice, and Gaius Fulcinius and that minion Spurius Dellius shouting and vetoing all they could--but of course, the trial had commenced, and could not be ended for no reason. My dear friend Lucius Caecilius Metellus Dalmaticus nullified all claims that the proceedings were nefas [immoral, wicked, sacrilegious], and Spurius Dellius was forced to continue.
Our friend Quintus Lutatius marched out of his house on the Palatine and proceeded to his villa at Circei, to enjoy the summer--whenever it will come, that is.
Your good ally, Marcus Livius Drusus
Sulla crumpled the letter and its contents, tried to tear them apart crumpled as they were, and flung them furiously into his clean latrined bucket. He clenched his fists, and his jaws clenched, and he said nothing. This would ruin all his work on the intelligent Marcus Livius Drusus Junior; also, who knew what Spurius Dellius would think of Hispania now?
After a few minutes the clenching stopped. Sulla stripped his tunic off and laid down under the warm furs on the bed. Two hours later, he was asleep.
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Ahh, the grand old Boni spirit. "The traditions of Rome are absolutely sacred--SO sacred that we must violate them to protect them."
Something tells me this is going to absolutely blow up in their faces.
Something tells me this is going to absolutely blow up in their faces.
Space Oddity, it already started to when Jugurtha, instead of getting deposed and losing his independence, got a favorable treaty signed. Marius is dead, after all.
Oh, I'm aware things are going badly--it's just that this latest descent into naked thuggery by the Boni--to protect the most hated man in Rome no less--looks like a prime example of winning a battle to lose a war.
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I can't wait to see what the Cimbri will do after their victorious battles next year. Could they carve out their own Proto-Reich in Cisalpine Gaul? The Roman body-count from pillaging could reach 1 million!!! (The Roman Population of Italia proper should be around 3-3.5 million in 100 BCE)
tuareg109
Banned
@Space Oddity: Absolutely yes! The scary thing is that the Boni aren't even caricatures here. When Quintus Servilius Caepio caused the death of 100,000 men in OTL's Arausio, there were many that defended him despite disgust and disappointment at his actions--because he was a Patrician Servilius with family connections and an extensive clientele. It was exactly the intervention and ire of the Third and Fourth Classes OTL (as in TTL) that caused his conviction; that the gods intervened--or so the Pontifex Maximus will crow widely in coming months--is the only thing that saved Catulus Caesar. If there had been 10,000 spectators instead of only 500, Quintus Metellus Nepos and his Merry Band would've been torn apart.
@Grouchio: Yes, you're rooting for the winning team!
Interesting note: In OTL's Arausio, 100,000 Romans and Italians died. This is about 3% of Italia's population, and about 10% of the free, relatively propertied men available for recruitment. Now you'll understand the anger.
@Grouchio: Yes, you're rooting for the winning team!
Interesting note: In OTL's Arausio, 100,000 Romans and Italians died. This is about 3% of Italia's population, and about 10% of the free, relatively propertied men available for recruitment. Now you'll understand the anger.
If that's so, then I smell a possible opening for Rome's colonies to revolt in the near future! After all this has happened before after the Battle of Cannae.
Greece and Asia Minor: Epirus and Macedon would revolt and attempt to restore their monarchies with staunch anti-roman policies, Achaea and Pergamon would follow suit; Bithynia under Nicomedes III would refrain from allying with the crumbling Republic (Unlike IOTL, where his son would become a total puppet). Lycia may also retract it's allegiance to Rome (As may Thrace), and Cilicia may get itself conquered by the Seleucid Buffer State. I wonder if Antiochus VIII could fare better ITTL. Mithridates VI of Pontus will have a field day. Whether or not he conquers all of Asia Minor and possibly Greece would be determined by logistics, luck and desire/circumstances.
Syria and Egypt: Hasmonean Judea may soon find itself without Roman support, whether that's a good thing or a bad thing depends upon if Aristobulus I is still murdered or not ITTL in 103 BC. This in turn will have effects upon the prosperity of the Nabateans, who were dealt stinging defeats by Alexander Jannaeus. Egypt under a sucession of unpopular Pharaohs like Ptolemy X Alexander (Who defaced Alexander's tomb to pay his mercenaries, which got him lynched by the mob!), will continue to (for the moment) weaken under popular rebellion, but will at least not have Rome breathing down it's neck (Info here). Ptolemy Apion, the last OTL Greek King of Cyrene, would not bequeath his realm to Rome; he may either suceed in having children, or bequeath it to the Pharaoh instead. As for Armenia, I'm sure Tigranes the Great will still rise to power the way he did IOTL, except better without any wars with Rome (With Pontus as an allied buffer anyhow). I wonder how well he'll stand against Parthia in the long run...
Hispania: Until we know what the Cimbri intend to do with the Iberian Peninsula, the future is very much uncertain. However, the many Iberian tribes like the Lusitani, Galleaci, Celtiberi and Cantabri will seek an opportunity to increase their raids and liberations against Roman Hispania. Also, there are a few questions up in the air since Marius died: Were there any new measures the Hispanians made to counter Roman might after the not-so-successful expedition of 619 AUC? Will we get something from their POV?
Gaul will never be conquered by Rome.
Greece and Asia Minor: Epirus and Macedon would revolt and attempt to restore their monarchies with staunch anti-roman policies, Achaea and Pergamon would follow suit; Bithynia under Nicomedes III would refrain from allying with the crumbling Republic (Unlike IOTL, where his son would become a total puppet). Lycia may also retract it's allegiance to Rome (As may Thrace), and Cilicia may get itself conquered by the Seleucid Buffer State. I wonder if Antiochus VIII could fare better ITTL. Mithridates VI of Pontus will have a field day. Whether or not he conquers all of Asia Minor and possibly Greece would be determined by logistics, luck and desire/circumstances.
Syria and Egypt: Hasmonean Judea may soon find itself without Roman support, whether that's a good thing or a bad thing depends upon if Aristobulus I is still murdered or not ITTL in 103 BC. This in turn will have effects upon the prosperity of the Nabateans, who were dealt stinging defeats by Alexander Jannaeus. Egypt under a sucession of unpopular Pharaohs like Ptolemy X Alexander (Who defaced Alexander's tomb to pay his mercenaries, which got him lynched by the mob!), will continue to (for the moment) weaken under popular rebellion, but will at least not have Rome breathing down it's neck (Info here). Ptolemy Apion, the last OTL Greek King of Cyrene, would not bequeath his realm to Rome; he may either suceed in having children, or bequeath it to the Pharaoh instead. As for Armenia, I'm sure Tigranes the Great will still rise to power the way he did IOTL, except better without any wars with Rome (With Pontus as an allied buffer anyhow). I wonder how well he'll stand against Parthia in the long run...
Hispania: Until we know what the Cimbri intend to do with the Iberian Peninsula, the future is very much uncertain. However, the many Iberian tribes like the Lusitani, Galleaci, Celtiberi and Cantabri will seek an opportunity to increase their raids and liberations against Roman Hispania. Also, there are a few questions up in the air since Marius died: Were there any new measures the Hispanians made to counter Roman might after the not-so-successful expedition of 619 AUC? Will we get something from their POV?
Gaul will never be conquered by Rome.
tuareg109
Banned
Remember though, the Socii of Rome and the Italian nations had a viable alternative in Hannibal. Sure, Punic culture was quite different from theirs, but the Carthaginians were as--or likely more--civilized, and would bring great wealth and little war to Italy after Rome's demise.
The Germans would simply bring death and destruction no matter where they tramped; who would revolt against Rome in this scenario?
I'm not sure if any Macedonian and Epirote royal families are still in existence, but it's quite likely that the city-states of Greece and Asia will move away from Rome; with Mithridates Eupator on the rise, these provinces will likely go to him peacefully.
Rome is still far from thinking as far east as Syria and Judaea.
The Celtiberians--in better condition because of the lack of Marius's conquests as Proquaestor there--aren't much changed; low-key warfare continued with Rome and each other. The Cimbri will definitely change things, though.
That's what you think.
The Germans would simply bring death and destruction no matter where they tramped; who would revolt against Rome in this scenario?
I'm not sure if any Macedonian and Epirote royal families are still in existence, but it's quite likely that the city-states of Greece and Asia will move away from Rome; with Mithridates Eupator on the rise, these provinces will likely go to him peacefully.
Rome is still far from thinking as far east as Syria and Judaea.
The Celtiberians--in better condition because of the lack of Marius's conquests as Proquaestor there--aren't much changed; low-key warfare continued with Rome and each other. The Cimbri will definitely change things, though.
That's what you think.Oh, I know. Sometimes, it's hard to avoid the feeling that the Boni were holding meetings where they uttered an undying pledge to always take the worst possible option in any situation. "What, we can resolve this peaceably, with no loss of face for all sides? NOT ON OUR WATCH!"
tuareg109
Banned
FOR WANT OF THE HAMMER
DIVERSIONS PART 3, 647 AVC
DIVERSIONS PART 3, 647 AVC
"Here you are, Sir," said the courier, pulling a thick sheaf of letters and papers from the leather purse hanging from his side. Lucius Cassius Longinus Ravilla took them wordlessly and nodded dismissal to the courier, absorbed in separating correspondence into the categories of "can't-wait" and "can-wait".
The courier, a man stationed in Dyrrhachium for six years by now on messenger duty, was long-inured to commanders of all kinds, and wasn't bothered at all by the governor's indifference. He turned and exited the governor's stone house that stood in the permanent camp at Bylazora, and moved to the smaller houses of the legates and military tribunes that flanked it on either side.
He delivered several more letters and packets from friends, relatives, and acquaintances of the generally wealthy and aristocratic men on duty. At one small house he knocked on the door and was graciously admitted by the doorman into the warmth. Though the weather was warming up, snow still lay on the ground in the interior of Macedonia Province.
He stood waiting for only a minute, as the doorman went off and returned with the young man in question. "Ah, so you have some letters for me?" asked Quintus Servilius Caepio.
"Yes, Sir, I do," said the courier; he handed over his letters and departed as quickly as usual--Dyrrhachium was warmer than Bylazora, and he knew several women there besides. Not a particularly ambitious man, the courier was content with the current arrangement.
"Ah!" said Quintus Servilius to nobody in particular; his servants and slaves were typically beneath his notice. There was a letter from his friend Marcus Livius Drusus Junior--two months old!--and from the Equestrian Sextus Perquitiennus and from his father, Quintus Servilius Caepio Senior. Despite the news of his good friend that the first letter would bring, and the flattery disguised as friendship from the social climber Perquitiennus that the second letter would bring, Caepio Junior immediately dropped the other two and opened the letter from his father.
Junior,
Oh, joyous news! Everything we've wanted has come to be. Ahenobarbus was let off due in part to our influence, and now Catulus Caesar has been acquitted by that damn Equestrian jury! Metellus Nepos gathered brave sons of the Senators and loyal Knights, and their clients, and showed the jury what the true will of Rome was. Oh, if only you could have been there! I'm sure you would've been in the front ranks! [Caepio Junior's bowels briefly turned to water at the thought of this; then, ignoring this discomfort, he read on]
The other good old boys and I are cooling our heels here in Rome, watching that bastard Gaius Fulcinius's plans fall around his ears. Your friend Sextus Perquitiennus's father is no mean enemy of Titus Pomponius, and he's led the loyal Equestrians against Fulcinius's band of demons; I'll be sure to recommend him highly to the new censors, when they're elected. He's planning to hand over all business ventures to his son, and there are rumors that the numbers of the Senate will be expanded.
While I don't like it, even wishy-washy idiots like Scaurus can see the sense in letting some of the best and wealthiest--and most supportive--Knights into the Senate; this will lower their opposition against us dramatically.
I'll continue working here on my end, and you keep up the good work in administering Macedonia. I'm sure Longinus Ravilla is having trouble holding everything together, minion that he is; you'll join that category of brilliant young men as are Ahenobarbus and Sulla, ruling provinces in the absence of a superior.
Good luck, my son; regards,
Quintus Servilius Caepio
This news was good, but Caepio Junior wasn't too sure of what to make of that last paragraph. His father sometimes held rather infectious delusions of grandeur, and he knew that he was susceptible to them; however, that Longinus was incompetent and that Caepio Junior was as independent as Ahenobarbus or Sulla had been was too outlandish. Caepio Junior, though, didn't truly know how narrow his own limitations were; he resolved in the future to make his father proud, and to take over as many of the governor's responsibilities as possible.
He called for a heavy cloak of the best quality, and bundled himself up for the short trip to the governor's house. He truly didn't notice the dirty looks he got from the rankers as he passed by the tents across the way--what a conceited, arrogant, idiotic young pup! they thought--but it looked to the legionaries as though he was deliberately ignoring them, as if they were lowly scum. In truth, they simply didn't interest him that much. To Quintus Servilius Caepio Junior, grown up in a household of armchair generals and men mostly ignored by the best generals, the key to winning any conflict was in numbers and good generalship in a battle--something that they assumed every noble Roman had in-born in him.
He swept into the governor's house without announcing himself and settled into the client's chair with a sigh. "Wow, it's cold outside."
Propraetorian commander Lucius Cassius Longinus Ravilla stared up slowly from his official Senatorial dispatches and sighed through his nose. Oh, the disappointment, that even a man from a two-hundred-year-noble plebeian family such as he had to tolerate the presence of an idiot who just happened to be a Patrician Servilius. Of course even Scipio Aemilianus had had to suffer patrician idiots, but he could at least more easily get away with giving them unsavory duties; in the more conservative atmosphere following the suicide of Gaius Gracchus, Longinus Ravilla had to cater to them. So he replied, "Yes," and gave no further encouragement. He didn't bother to mention that the walk was only a quarter-mile, and that Caepio besides lived in a nice warm stone house, and that the rankers had to suffer the crowded and thin-walled barracks.
"Mmm," said Caepio Junior. "Well, I've just gotten the best of news from my father; Gaius Fulcinius's campaign of terror is over!"
"Well," began Longinus Ravilla skeptically, "I doubt that. I've just gotten the Senate's dispatches, and a letter from the Pontifex Maximus; he's just been set back a little, is all. Very good luck for Quintus Lutatius, that the weather prevented so many spectators."
"No," Caepio Junior said, shaking his head as if he were speaking to a child. "What does the Pontifex Maximus know? It was the ingrained sense of right and wrong in the Equestrians; once they saw Quintus Lutatius in danger of being exiled, they came to their senses."
Longinus Ravilla, all for the exile of Quintus Lutatius, but not too invested in the matter emotionally or politically, simply shrugged. "That may be so."
Seeing this apparent indecisiveness, Caepio Junior said, "Well, I dropped by to give the good news, and to let you know that if there's anything that can be done for you, or any kind of duties that you'd rather avoid, I'd be happy to take them up. You know, with the cold and the wet, there's not much to do around here," he added, quite craftily in his opinion.
Longinus Ravilla's eyes lit up. "Why yes, there's much you can do!" In fact, Lucius Cassius Longinus had been looking for people to take over his duties, as he was planning on running for Consul this year. With his relative success against the elusive Dardani and other Celtic and Thracian tribes on the northern frontiers of Macedonia, and with the poor crop of candidates besides, he believed that he stood a good chance of winning the election. Praetor in the year of 642 AVC, he had been sent to Numidia and brought Jugurtha to Rome to answer to the Mamilian Commission; this was the year in which Prince Adherbal was assassinated in Rome, and Spurius Postumius Albinus managed to break Prince Gauda out of confinement in Cirta.
After the Praetorship he'd governed Asia Province in peace and plenty, letting the exploitative tax-gathering publicani know his derisive opinion of them and laughing at the mistakes that Spurius Postumius and his brother Aulus were making in Africa. He'd waited a year to seek the Consulship, but had been unsuccessful; he wasn't too ambitious, but he was his own man, and that hadn't appealed too much to the electors that had chosen Quintus Hortensius and Servius Sulpicius Galba, of all men. He hadn't bothered to run against august Catulus Caesar and war hero Publius Rutilius Rufus; competing against Titus Bruttius and Lucius Vettius in the radically populist elections of last year would have been an utter waste. So he bided his time, well aware that in five years he would be fifty years old, and that the electors typically didn't like to elect men that were so old--only august Consulars were likely to be elected at an advanced age. He bided his time, and now he saw his chance.
After this great, blessed command had been conferred upon him, he knew that it was time. So now he would transfer many of his duties to Caepio Junior, in order to give himself more time and peace to think about and write communications to the men who could begin to tout and support his campaign in Rome; Caepio Junior it would have to be, so that he could avoid offending Caepio Senior and his very powerful friends. Also, Lucius Cassius was very sure that getting his rankers and centurions and legates to see much more of Caepio Junior would get them to hate him more; when Lucius Cassius left in a month or two to stand for office in Rome, he would formally transfer his command to Caepio Junior--he wouldn't offend Caepio Senior, and the men hated the boy enough to not follow him on some foolish venture. Lucius Cassius Longinus Ravilla was no man's fool; he knew that Caepio Junior entertained fantasies of being a hero such as Gnaeus Domitius Ahenobarbus and Lucius Cornelius Sulla were.
So he repeated, "Yes, Quintus Servilius, there is much you can do! Thank you very much for being so considerate." Caepio Junior left the governor's house smiling; but Lucius Cassius was smiling wider. Yes, I will be Consul this year.
The ninth of Maius dawned warm and bright in Rome. Even after two weeks of seasonable weather, the people of Rome still rejoiced that winter was finally over; it had been the most disastrous and costly winter that any person could remember, both in lives and in property damage. Most families of the Fifth Class and the Head Count were smaller by two members, and the Classes all the way up to the First were not free of this loss.
So it was in a better mood than of late that Scaurus and Metellus Pontifex Maximus stalked to the Marcus Livius Drusus house. Since Catulus Caesar's absolution, relations between the Boni had returned mostly to normal. Catulus Caesar was still on glad foray in Circei, waiting for the odium to die down; no doubt the atmosphere would be more tense when he returned, given that Scaurus and his men had wanted him convicted.
The doorman opened at the first knock, and there was Marcus Livius standing there crying, "Come in, come in dear friends!" He had been a bit indecently gracious of late, as if gloating over his victory. Scipio Nasica standing next to him was a bit more dour, but a smirk still played around his lips.
After the pleasantries they moved onto the Loggia, which was warm with sunshine and cool with a gentle breeze. The servants were happy, and did much to lighten the mood. Cold, foggy mornings were a thing of the past--and of the future--and they could see clear to the shining white face of the Temple of Jupiter Optimus Maximus.
"Ah, I'll never tire of saying it, Marcus Livius," said Metellus Pontifex Maximus. "Your house has the most superb view in Rome."
"I know," said Marcus Livius, grinning.
"A blessing from the gods," Scaurus winked at Scipio Nasica, who rolled his eyes as the Pontifex Maximus began:
"Oh, and that trial! Imagine it being so cold so late in the year! The gods truly favor our cause; there's no other explanation."
"We had to help the gods along," Scaurus reminded him gently. "If your cousin Metellus Nepos hadn't gathered his good band of merry men, Catulus Caesar would be sitting penniless in Smyrna or Massilia now, exiled."
"Oh, sure," said Nepos's cousin, slowing down now. "But of course, men work the will of the gods in the environment that the gods provide. If it hadn't been so cold, there would have been a crowd to drive our brave young men into the ground."
Drusus was nodding sedately. "It seems as though--" then he broke off, pointing down into the Loggia beneath his own. The men stepped to the edge and looked down to see Gnaeus Domitius Ahenobarbus speaking to Praetor Marcus Perperna, Praetor Lucius Valerius Flaccus, and his brother Quaestor Gaius Valerius Flaccus.
"I wonder," said Scaurus in wonder, "what the hell that group could be talking about." They watched as the men below gesticulated--without conflict, it appeared; the movements were only for emphasis.
"Ah," said Drusus sadly. "Who would've thought that the son of such a staunch conservative as our good friend Gnaeus Domitius would associate with such...scum," he ended with a derisive Tchah!
"I thought," said Scipio Nasica in surprise, "that the Valerii Flacci were simply chosen because of how unknown they were. I mean, noble names, but they somehow managed to endear themselves to Titus Pomponius; anyway, I thought that they would turn against that whoremaster soon enough."
Metellus Pontifex Maximus shrugged and added, "Anyway, where's Lucius Domitius the Pontiff? Are he and his brother still not speaking?" When he saw Drusus go a shade of red--difficult to discern against his olive-dark skin--he added curiously, "What did you say to him, Marcus Livius? He's been in a huff for quite some time now."
Drusus's face mottled even more and he said, "Tace!"
Scaurus began one of his contagious laughing fits, which infected the rest of the party. When he saw that Gnaeus Domitius and his guests were staring up from their own Loggia, he turned and patted his buttocks, shouting, "Oh, look here you Vestals!" which set them laughing all the harder. It took quite a few minutes for them to finish, just as Scaurus was beginning to fear that one of them would get a heart attack.
"Ah, Marcus Aemilius," said Scipio Nasica, wiping away tears. "Never change, my good fellow!"
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