Aurelia || SERIES ROMANA I

Chapter 80 ~ Bellum gerere

Almost reverently, Gaius stepped into the outer ring of the stone circle shrouded in mystery. For hours she had tried to put this place into words for him and now he stood here in this mysterious place that seemed almost like a dream image to him. But he was wide awake, and he felt with every fibre of his body the same fascination that these stones have exerted on people throughout the ages. His fingertips ran tenderly over the uneven surface of the stone to his right. It was quite warm from the sunlight, as if the stone were alive.
According to Aurelia, the stones had been standing for two thousand years. In his life, Gaius had already seen much of the world they knew. But this place felt different, and his legates felt the magic of it too. He could read that in their nervous faces. Uncle Claudius, standing on the other side of the stone, caught his gaze and quietly enquired what he was going to do with this place now.
Determined, Gaius withdrew his hand and examined the stones. They had already been through the first three battles, and these had increased his fears that the island would resist him for quite a while. But what was the attraction of conquest if he didn't have to fight for it?
"We could use the stones to build a city," Vespasian suggested, not noticing the aghast look he received from his brother. Of his legates, Vespasian seemed the most balanced. Gaius scrutinised his friend and remembered the words Aurelia had irritably muttered ages ago while planning the campaign: He has given Titus the order to destroy the Temple of Solomon. Believe me, Vespasian will not be squeamish. Up to now, Gaius had not been able to decipher the meaning of her words - for he really did not want to think of the possibilities and consequences of an uprising of the Jews in Judea - but he now discovered a side to his friend that Aurelia had long known: Vespasian's pietas was for the Roman gods, for all others he lacked respect.
Indecisively, Gaius walked past a stone of the inner circle and stopped in the middle of the open space. With a furrowed brow he observed the stone set into the ground. This place was truly beautiful in its bizarre and mystical way. If he approved of its destruction, he would indeed be sending a clear signal to the barbarians, but at what cost? Was it really worth it? Did he want to be hated by his enemies when they could not love him? The answer to these questions was clearly no. It had been that way when Aurelia emerged from the waves, and it was that way today when he thought about the fate of Stonehenge. Just because he was at the head of the most powerful empire in the world, leading an invasion, did not give him the right to erase everything beautiful from this world. That, and no other, was how he wanted to be remembered.
For a heartbeat, Gaius closed his eyes and took in the energy of this place. Then, smiling, he turned to his legates and said with a grin, "Nothing. Let us return to camp."

Highly concentrated he watched the two lines meeting and all at once he felt strangely useless. His horse was pawing its hooves impatiently, adding to his own inner turmoil. Out of the corner of his eye, he registered a rider approaching. The messenger quickly repeated the message that Vespasian had entrusted to him and at the same moment it occurred to Gaius that his strategy might not work this time. Frustrated, he barked an order, turned to the fighting men and thought feverishly. What would his father do? Uncle Claudius' legion was about a three-hour march behind them and Aulus Plautius was already three hours' march ahead with his troops. Although he had already sent several messengers to both legates, he doubted not only that his messages would not get through to them, but also whether the two legions could hold out in the face of such superior numbers of barbarians. But they had to hold out until the reinforcements arrived. Together, the two Flavians had almost ten thousand men, not counting the auxiliary troops - so how had these savages managed to raise an army almost three times their size in such a short time?
After all, this is an open battle in which the troops can fight together, Gaius thought and frowned. What would his father have done in this situation? Presumably he would not have dug in behind his soldiers, Gaius bitterly reproached himself, watching as the Roman war machine tried to repel the onslaught. The first waves had been able to keep the hurled pila relatively well in check, but only for a time. Even the Scythians' bows could now only slightly thin out the rear lines of the Britons, but most of the savages were either too close to the Romans or out of range of the archers.
What his men needed was a new boost of motivation. Thoughtfully, Gaius eyed the Praetorians to his sides, but his mind was made up. Determined, he turned to Vespasian's waiting messenger and said, "Tell legatus Vespasianus I expect him at my side."
As the messenger hurriedly steered his horse, Suetonius nodded to Gaius, with a grim expression Gaius put spurs to his horse and reached for one of the pila attached to his saddle. Until now he had never really believed that he would have to intervene in the battle himself, but as soon as he felt the weight of the spear in his hand, his mind shut down and his instinct took over.