Legio XIII Gemina: The Rubicon

V- Sulla Reborn or Marius Incarnate?

"I am most honored! What is the deed that need only be done by I?"

"You, my Master of Horse, must maintain the structure and stability of the Roman Republic until the day that I return victorious in my endeavors against these perfidious robbers of the common man! Do this and I will be in your debt. You will be rewarded most handsomely for a job well done, the prize for which I have yet to decide."

"I shall do it, Caesar! Jupiter as my witness I will do right in your name!" Antonius pauses for a moment, then raises his voice again, "But one inquiry nags at the back of my soul, good sir."
"Speak it, friend."

"Where will you go first? Pompey still gathers men in Magna Graecia, but he can't possibly escape from your speedy marches and cunning tactics!"

"Aye, I first will go to stop Pompey and hopefully this will cause his legions in Hispania to surrender, leaving only Africum and the isles in Optimate hands. I have already sent word to Labienus to break winter camp and march south to put pressure on the seven or so legions in Hispania. I shall accompany him in this with the fresh XVII, XVIII and XIX legions, which should be more than plenty to overcome the men that Pompey has forgotten."

"Excellent plans, as always, Caesar! But for the policies I am to enact in my time as your plenipotentiary, which would be the most important for me to push in favor of?"

"The land redistribution bill that I had attempted to pass in my time as consul. Poor farmers need suffer no longer under the conglomerate slave farms built on land that was once their ancestral birthright! I trust you will get this done, Antonius, for the Republic is in dire need of fixing." Caesar gestures to his entourage, "But for now, I must depart. Pompey cannot be given extra time to escape."

"Understood. May Fortuna favor you, Caesar!"

      Caesar leaves the temple and treks over to the overcrowding citadel. He calls together the legates of the V, VIII, IX, XII and XIII for a short war council meeting. The generals listen carefully as Caesar outlines his plan for catching Pompey's meager forces in the port city of Brundisium. One of his generals informs him as to his previous consular partner's command of the Adriatic fleet which would contest the plan he laid out. Caesar waves him off, explaining that if Bibulus were good at command, he wouldn't have hidden in his home, nor would the wise people of Rome had covered him in feces when he tried to exercise his veto on a bill that benefitted every Roman. The legates nod in agreement, retreating into their minds to best interpret their role in the up-coming short campaign. Caesar dismisses the men and walks to the south-eastern gate of the Eternal City, awaiting his forces to join him.

      Shadows drag across the ground, blocking the approaching legions from the warmth of the Sun, on account of the tall walls surrounding Brundisium; doors barred shut in the deafening silence falling over the territory of Apulia. When Neptune opes his form to allow Apollo to urge on his chariot around the world again, the orange light plays across the resolute defenders' helms, standing guard on the ramparts to prove that Pompey will not be so easily subdued. Caesar orders his legions to break up to gather wood and food, as well as build a central camp to contest Pompey's position. With wood gathered and the camp walls erected, Caesar directs the rest of the construction materials to go towards siege engines and broad boats to carry earth and dump it in the port.

      Come Apollo's next visit above the lands of Italia, the crafts Caesar called for sail about the seas; loading the dirt and gravel onto their boats, leading the materiel to the growing breakwater originating from the shore and dodging scorpion bolts, javelins and arrows raining down from the docks. To the surprise of the mariners aboard Caesar's vessels, Pompey sends out his own naval force; lobing flaming torches to set the decks on fire and hurling missiles to take out the construction crews. Caesarians answer in kind with rocks from the breakwater, as well as whatever missiles they had brought with them. The harassment lasted until the night again blanketed the lands in darkness. During the lull in the fight, Pompey slips his forces out of the unfinished breakwater and into the Adriatic.

     Caesar awakes to see the ramparts vacant of troops. He orders his siege engines forward, thinking that Pompey has finally come to see sense and will surrender. His head erupts into flames when the centurions return to report that the entire Pompeian navy and the adjoining legions had disappeared in the early morning seamist. Caesar stops for a moment to think before lashing out at his commanders.

"Good thing he decided that now is the time to retreat, for his legions in Hispania now have to go through us to regroup with him. We could use this to our advantage." The legates and centurions nod in agreement as Caesar continues, "You men will stay here and ensure that he believes that we are waiting for the winter months to pass before journeying across the Adriatic. In that time, I will go off and unite with the legions coming from Gaul and crush the men who wish to resist in Pompey's land. Do well by my name, good soldiers!"

"Ave, Caesar!" The reply.

      Caesar saddles his horse and rides north at a break-neck pace for other generals, but for him is a leisurely trot through the countryside. Caesar meets with his legates north of Genoa, where they inform him of something else to make his blood boil.

"Friends! My heart warms to see you all again. Wait... Where is Labienus? Is he not feeling well?" Caesar asks, the smile fading from his lips.

"About that, Caesar, we received word from Belgae that he departed camp as soon as he found out that you marched against Rome. He didn't even gather his things, he was leading the camp in the evening and was nowhere to be seen in the morning," the legate of the V informs him, with a voice that shook.

"Labienus, I did what I did to ensure that you would get the governorship once my tenure ended. Why desert me when I need you most?" Caesar rests his palms on the table, then sighs and speaks, "Gather his things and cart them off to wherever his is. If he's going to lead a good campaign, he'll need his books and notes."

A messenger at the back nods and sprints from the tent, "Aye, sir."

"As distressing as this is, we still have a job to do, gentlemen. So, how many legions has Pompey in Hispania?"

"We believe it to be seven, sir. However, he dispatched two of them to go to Thither Hispaniam and put down a local uprising there. We can be reasonably confident that they will be unable to reinforce the main army," the legate of the VI puts his finger on the two places.

"Good news. Fortuna may favor us yet. There's no time to delay, and glory beckons!"

       Caesar's force stamps the roads into place from Genoa to Masillia, finding this of all cities to declare neutrality in the face of three hardy legions. As unaware columns near the city, Caesar's previously pardoned member of the Optimates, Lucius Domitius, slides into the docks while night casts the Rhenum valley into dark. Assuming command of the garrison, he prepares the walls for a siege, imminent at dawn. Caesar again wakes to see a city raising the flag of the Optimate supporters, again commanded by the same man. Caesar, for his part, felt what lesser men would feel in his previous position; head bathed the color of Mars from the overwhelming desire to see the head of Domitius fall to the ground with an anti-climactic thump. "But I haven't the time to sit and wait for a siege to end when I have to stamp out the Pompeian legions in Hispaniam! Now is the time for swift action for the cunning commander and simple work for the lower commanders," Caesar reassures himself. And so, he throws his leg over the white stallion's flank, spurring it on towards the Pyrenees with only his bodyguards in tow.