Caesar Triumphant- Chapter 6 (Cont.)

It was a little more than a month after Caesar and his army launched their invasion of Wa that there was the first appearance of trouble, of a sort that threatened not just the campaign, but the army itself.  "We haven't located nearly as much rice as we thought we would," was how Caesar put it to his assembled Primi Pili. "However, we still have the expectations of being resupplied from the stockpile we have on the first island."
Caesar was referring to the lightly populated island that they assaulted when they crossed from the Gayan Peninsula. Dubbed "Fortuna" by the men, Caesar had established a forward base on this island, directing that the Legate he left in charge, an older man who had been in charge of the vast herd of livestock needed to transport the army, put his energies into ferrying supplies from the Gayan Peninsula to the island. This man, Publius Ventidius Bassus by name, known throughout the army as Ventidius The Muleteer, was a superb hand at the grindingly mundane but crucially important art of logistics. Caesar trusted Ventidius implicitly; therefore, he wasn't particularly worried at the dearth of consumables on the large island they were on now. According to Zhang, his only source of information about not only the size of the island, but practically everything else, they had barely covered a quarter of this island, so Caesar still harbored hopes of stumbling onto a settled area, with the requisite foodstuffs his army needed. However, in the meantime he had total confidence in his older Legate in providing the needed supplies. Caesar kept the base on Fortuna apprised of his latest position and intentions, using his Liburnians, still the fastest sailing craft he had at his disposal, yet the farther east along the coast they traveled, the longer the supply line stretched. It was a concern for the general, but not yet a worry.
The progress of the army was slowed by the fact that Caesar insisted that the fleet halt every third day for the army to go ashore and make a proper camp. From this camp, they would spend a day, alternately resting and scouting, looking for signs of large settlements, or arable land that showed signs of cultivation. Sometimes they would camp on one of the hundreds of islands that dotted this inland sea, but usually they tried to find campsites on the main island from which they could launch their forays. This was made difficult by the terrain; not since Greece had Caesar seen such a mountainous country, and it was no wonder that they had trouble finding large areas of cultivation. But, Caesar mused, as he sat in his stateroom one night thinking about the problem, it may also be that we're not going far enough inland. But Zhang insists that the farther east we go, that's when we'll find fields of a substantial size to support my army. Until then, we'll have to count on Ventidius. 
It was just another sign of the gods' blessing that the day that the dreaded storm that Zhang called the tai-fun came, the army was actually ashore, in their camp. Even so, the storm was horrific, wreaking terrible damage to the fleet, and ripping a large number of the men's tents to shreds. Even with the damage, it could have been worse, much worse, a fact that the Centurions wasted no time in impressing on the men. It was little short of a miracle that none of the ships, all of them riding at anchor in a bay that was barely large enough to fit all of them, had sunk, instead the damage they sustained came almost exclusively from them bashing into each other. "How long to repair the damage?" Caesar asked the Roman he had put in charge of all matters regarding the navy.  Aulus Hirtius consulted the wax tablet in front of him, considering for a moment before answering, "At least a week, and that's if we use all the immunes who have experience with this kind of work."Caesar sucked in a breath through his teeth, grimacing despite suspecting the answer before it was given.  "Well," he said after a moment's reflection, "perhaps we can make this work for us. While we're working, I'll send out at least 2 of the Legions and have them head north, into the interior, to see what they can find in the way of food. Or an army," he added, almost as an afterthought. "In the meantime, we'll wait for Ventidius' fleet to catch up with us. Yes," he finished briskly, once again the Caesar who was never put on the back foot for more than a moment, "we can actually make this work for us."
And it would have worked, if the gods, as suddenly as they favored Caesar, took that favor away. Although it wasn't until almost the full week had passed before he, and the army, learned of the misfortune that had befallen them without them being aware of it. Until, that is, three heavily damaged transport ships, all that was left out of the fleet of 30 that left Fortuna, came limping into the small bay. As soon as they anchored, the senior captain, a Greek navarch who had been with the fleet since the beginning of the campaign and was one of the most experienced sailors left, rowed ashore. He was quickly led to the praetorium, which was still standing, although a panel from the roof had been blown out and was now patched, the darker leather showing starkly against the faded panels of the rest of the headquarters tent. Immediately allowed into the tent, the navarch Lysandros saw Caesar standing with two of his scribes, dictating something to one while discussing a totally different topic with the other. Seeing Lysandros and recognizing him, Caesar stopped immediately and beckoned him to approach, his eyes taking in the Greek's haggard appearance and instantly understanding that it boded ill. His instinct was confirmed a moment later, when after exchanging salutes, Lysander gave his report.  "General, I regret to inform you that all but my ship and two others were destroyed by that cursed wind the Han call the tai-fun," Lysandros' voice shook with a combination of emotion and exhaustion. "We tried running before the wind, but between the waves and rain, all the boats became swamped or foundered." Caesar stood there motionless for several moments, not saying a word, and all other activity in the tent ceased as well.  Finally, he managed to ask, in a strangled voice, "All but three? Are you sure? Did you search for any other ships?" Lysandros nodded as he said sadly, "Yes, Caesar. We spent two days after the storm on one of the islands that gave us the chance to make repairs and watch for any survivors, or ships that made it through as well. All we saw were corpses, and flotsam," he finished bitterly. After a few more questions that satisfied Caesar there was no hope of a miracle, Lysandros was sent to see to his crew's needs and to his own. 
As if that wasn't enough, there was a stir at the entrance to the headquarters not long after Lysandros left, this time the messenger one of the cavalrymen that had been assigned to one of the Legions Caesar had sent out on patrol. The only thing Caesar didn't know was which of the two Legions it was, but that was immediately answered when the cavalryman reported. "General, I've been sent by Primus Pilus Pullus. He reports that his Legion has found a large town that appears to be well supplied with food." Before Caesar could digest this however, he continued, "But the Legion was forced to make a camp in the face of the enemy because a large armed force of those savages appeared out of nowhere!" "How large?" Caesar asked instantly. "Primus Pullus estimates at least 15,000," the cavalryman replied.Caesar let out a string of curses and snapped out an order to one of his aides to have the call sounded summoning all Primi Pili and officers. Turning back to the messenger, he asked several questions, trying to ascertain an exact location, all while conferring with the crude map of the surrounding area. Once finished, he dismissed the messenger who, instead of departing at once, seemed to hesitate. "Well?" Caesar forced himself to be calm, knowing that snapping at this man wouldn't help anyone. "Is there something else?" "Yes sir," the man stammered, "I mean, I don't really know sir. It's just that as I topped the last ridge before the 10th was out of sight, I stopped to make sure I wasn't being followed. And when I did, I naturally just looked back over my trail looking......" "Yes, yes, just tell me what you saw," Caesar snapped, his patience finally fraying.  "Well sir, I could see the camp. It's in a good position, like I said, but those Wa bastards already have it surrounded. And," he swallowed hard, "they were already beginning to attack the camp. I don't know if they'll be able to hold long enough for us to save them." Smiling grimly, Caesar simply put his hand on the man's shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze. "Then I guess we'd better hurry then, don't we?"And with that, he dismissed the messenger and began issuing orders. 

All posts by R.W. Peake on blog.rwpeake.com are copyrighted by the author, 2012.