My Campaign in Narrative form
The Senate house hushed as Mamercus stood, a roll of papyrus clasped in his right hand - a habit of the mans when public speaking.
'Conscript Fathers, I ask that you send legions, one at least, to our Africa Province immediately to reinforce Gaius Cornelius Blasio. His army of levies and mercenaries have failed to prevent incursions from Libya and Numidia. Carthaginian magistrates in exile continue to harass us from the interior. For the love of the Gods Senatores, Blasio is the governor of lower Hispainia! He crossed to prevent disaster, not to fight a war with only a band of rabble and uncertain natives under his command.' Despite the reason and good sense Mamercus spoke, the other Senators of the front benches scoffed. Mamercus was new blood to the Patrician ranks. A Consular, his family had moved to the rolls of the Patricians on the day of his election. The other Patricians hated him, for it took enormous clout and skill to raise from the Plebian ranks to such esteem, that he not only won the Consulship, not uncommon for Plebians, but the entire province of Sicily. That he did not 'rape' the province (in the witty words of a former Princeps) only added insult to their injury.
Sextus Cornelius Sulla rose abruptly, a look of undiluted rage on his proud aquilline face - 'Mamercus, please! - Balhanno and his desperate Carthaginian remnant are no cause for us to send an entire legion to Africa. I understand you have just returned from Sicily and are eager to 'accomodate' your good friend Blasio,' stifled laughter accompanied the insinuation, and Sulla smiled as he continued 'as I hear was regularly the case, what with your frequent crossings to Carthage from your province, but we have just opened a front with Epirus and all our availablAe military resources must be spent in delivering the hammer blow to our Greek opponents, more dangerous by far than anything Balhanno can raise in the deserts.'
'Cotta Africanus does not think so,' Mamercus began, amid frustrated sighs from the front bench senators. Jealousy could run so deep, men fighting (or in the case of the Senators, talking as if they were doing all the fighting) for the glory of the same nation could hate each other, anticipate each others failure, strive to curb each others successes.
Gaius Aurelius Cotta, called Africanus for driving the Carthaginians from Spain, and defeating them decisively in North and North West Africa, was to the military world what Mamercus was to the political. A Plebian, who began his career in Sicily, green and untalented, and had risen to be unanimously considered the greatest general of his time, a second Alexander. Cotta broke the back of Carthage, and after defeating his constant nemesis, Xanthiphes a Puno-Spartan general, in what would be his last battle of the war, Cotta requested a return to Rome, feeling his energy and skill could be used elsewhere. The front bench Senators were glad. 'Let him try,' they whispered, fight true opponents, like Gauls, the Boii, the Aediu. Cotta stayed in Rome only a short few months, took command of a new green legion, and cleared Northern Italy as far as Mediolanium. He slew the King of Segesta with his own hand.
'Let him try his hand with Greeks, thinkers, tacticians, warriors with our quality of armour and weaponry and not naked savages'. Cotta landed in Epirus, sacked the principal city and defeated a Koinon army sent from Thermon to recuperate Epirus's losses. Chrysipedes, widely recognised as Greeces finest, died beneath the crush of Cotta's soldiers.
'Cotta, if you havent noticed Mamercus, is leading our forces in Epirus. His opinions of Balhanno are not relevant here,' replied Sulla. Careful steps, noone could insult Cotta openly without showing the colour of green in their hearts.
'Cotta Africanus,' Mamercus emphasised, 'named Balhanno as the only capable General left in Carthaginian power. His Iberian bloodlines warrant concern too, and if Blasio has his forces in Africa and the Lusotannians, growing in power, decide to honour that Alliance with Carthage they have so long strategically ignored...'
Lucius Cornelius Scipio stood, his white locks instantly noticeable, even as he remained as always on the third bench up. Lucius was an enigma, but more importantly in the Senate House, the Pontifex Maximus and a man whos dignitas left a gulf between himself and the next nearest Senator. Lucius was born to a politically, but not militarily, distinguished family, of great wealth and clout. What made Lucius the enigma, was his quality despite these factors. Arrogant, self serving, closed minded - all character flaws expected in a man of such background, but none were present in Lucious Cornelius Scipio - no he was patient, fair, wise, looked up to by the back benchers, respected with begrudgement by the front benchers, loved by the people and feared by the soldiers (only by his reputation as a disciplinarian). His position, on the third bench, did not denote a middle ground in dignitas as it did for the other Senators, it denoted his stance in affairs. Lucius took no side in disputes, he removed himself from faction, leanings, bias. He waited until all arguments had been fought over a motion in the house, and breezed in with his conclusions, his methodical and unrelenting dismemberment of the topic, and with his guidance the right path was almost always found. He was the guiding hand that had made the last ten years of the Roman Republic the most prosperous, the most victorious, the most successful.
'Sextus Cornelius, there are two legions training in Campania?'
'Yes Lucius, but they are to go North to Mediolanium, we are expecting reprisals from the Gauls,' he replied respectfully.
'I say that we should break off half of a legion and send it to Africa, if Blasio is holding Balhanno with his levies, one half of a legion should put him on the offensive, at the least hold him until we can assess the situation and decide if greater force is required. The other half we send to Hispainia, I think we are not giving due care to the issue of the Lusotanni. The mines in Hispania we cannot afford to lose while we field so many soldiers. The remaining legion should go to Mediolanium, where the fortifications are to be improved. I know one legion is not ideal to hold the barbarians, but my plans are banked on the belief or 'hope' that all three of our fronts will not be pushed at once, and we will need to manouevre our forces when one or two are.'
Instantly they felt as bickering children, a common effect of Lucius's intervention.
'And Mamercus, it is you who will take the half-legion to Africa, and Blasios aid,' he fixed his eyes on Sulla now, 'fraternity I would encourage always in our ranks.'
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- my first balloon, from Mouzafphaerre
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