has done splendidly so far. Do you foresee equal success in the coming campaign?"
He thought awhile before answering. This was a thing I was to note about him. He never spoke quickly on weighty subjects, but always considered his words carefully.
"Lucius Lucullus is as fine a general as I have ever served," he said at last. "And he is the finest administrator I have ever known, by far. But he is not popular with the soldiers."
"So I've heard," I said. "A hard one, is he?"
"Very strict. Not foolishly so, mind you. Two generations ago, his discipline would have been esteemed by everyone. But the legionaries have grown lax. They still fight as hard and as expertly as ever, and they can take hard campaigning, but the likes of Marius and Sulla and Pompey have spoiled them. I mean no disrespect, but those generals bought their men's loyalty by allowing them to loot at will after a victory, and letting them live soft at the end of the campaigning season."
He dipped a scrap of bread into a pot of honey and chewed slowly, considering further. "Nothing wrong with allowing the men a little loot, of course. The enemy's camp, or a town that persists in resisting after it's been offered good terms, or a share of the money when the prisoners have been sold off, those things don't harm good order and discipline. But those generals I mentioned have let their men plunder whole countrysides and extort money and goods from the locals during an occupation. That's bad. Bad for discipline and bad for public order. And it makes Rome hated wherever the legions are quartered."
"But Lucullus doesn't allow it?" I asked, refilling both our cups.
"Absolutely not. Flogging for extortion or taking bribes, beheading for murder. He allows no exceptions."
"And the men grumble against him?"
"Certainly. Oh, it's to be expected in a long war. Lucullus has been out there for nearly five years, and some of us were in Asia under Cotta, before Lucullus arrived. Men want to go home, and too many are being kept on after their terms of service have expired. No real danger of mutiny yet, but who knows what will happen when they learn that there's to be another hard campaign, this time in Armenia. He keeps them drilling and training hard, even in winter quarters, and they don't like that, either."
"He should relent a little," I said. "Promise them the loot of Tigranocerta."
"That might be best," Carbo agreed, "but it might turn out to be a disappointment. From what I've heard Tigranocerta may not be the fabulous royal city everyone talks about. Some say it's just a big fort: hard fighting and little loot."
"That would be unfortunate," I said. "But I fear that things may be about to get worse for General Lucullus."
Carbo's look sharpened. "What do you mean?'
"Gnaeus, are you loyal to Lucullus?"
He seemed somewhat offended. "Loyal to my general? Of course I am.What reason have you to doubt it?"
"None at all. But all generals have enemies, and sometimes those are on their own staffs."
"Lucullus is the best general I have served. I will be loyal to him as long as he is loyal to Rome."
"Excellent. You will be returning to the army before the new campaigning season?"
"Yes. From here I will go to spend some time with my family, then I return to the East."
"Good. Gnaeus, I am about to tell you something in strictest confidence, and I want you to convey this to General Lucullus. He does not know me, but he will know my father, the Urban Praetor, by reputation at least. It concerns the actions of his enemies, actions which I think to be not only hostile to Lucullus, but, even worse, pernicious to Rome."
Carbo nodded grimly. "Tell me. I will tell him."
I took a deep breath. This had the feeling of conspiracy, or at least slanderous trouble-making, but I could not ignore my instincts in this matter. "Sometime in the next year, Publius Claudius Pulcher will sail to Asia to join Lucullus as a tribune. He is the general's brother-in-law. Publius is a bad man, and
He thought awhile before answering. This was a thing I was to note about him. He never spoke quickly on weighty subjects, but always considered his words carefully.
"Lucius Lucullus is as fine a general as I have ever served," he said at last. "And he is the finest administrator I have ever known, by far. But he is not popular with the soldiers."
"So I've heard," I said. "A hard one, is he?"
"Very strict. Not foolishly so, mind you. Two generations ago, his discipline would have been esteemed by everyone. But the legionaries have grown lax. They still fight as hard and as expertly as ever, and they can take hard campaigning, but the likes of Marius and Sulla and Pompey have spoiled them. I mean no disrespect, but those generals bought their men's loyalty by allowing them to loot at will after a victory, and letting them live soft at the end of the campaigning season."
He dipped a scrap of bread into a pot of honey and chewed slowly, considering further. "Nothing wrong with allowing the men a little loot, of course. The enemy's camp, or a town that persists in resisting after it's been offered good terms, or a share of the money when the prisoners have been sold off, those things don't harm good order and discipline. But those generals I mentioned have let their men plunder whole countrysides and extort money and goods from the locals during an occupation. That's bad. Bad for discipline and bad for public order. And it makes Rome hated wherever the legions are quartered."
"But Lucullus doesn't allow it?" I asked, refilling both our cups.
"Absolutely not. Flogging for extortion or taking bribes, beheading for murder. He allows no exceptions."
"And the men grumble against him?"
"Certainly. Oh, it's to be expected in a long war. Lucullus has been out there for nearly five years, and some of us were in Asia under Cotta, before Lucullus arrived. Men want to go home, and too many are being kept on after their terms of service have expired. No real danger of mutiny yet, but who knows what will happen when they learn that there's to be another hard campaign, this time in Armenia. He keeps them drilling and training hard, even in winter quarters, and they don't like that, either."
"He should relent a little," I said. "Promise them the loot of Tigranocerta."
"That might be best," Carbo agreed, "but it might turn out to be a disappointment. From what I've heard Tigranocerta may not be the fabulous royal city everyone talks about. Some say it's just a big fort: hard fighting and little loot."
"That would be unfortunate," I said. "But I fear that things may be about to get worse for General Lucullus."
Carbo's look sharpened. "What do you mean?'
"Gnaeus, are you loyal to Lucullus?"
He seemed somewhat offended. "Loyal to my general? Of course I am.What reason have you to doubt it?"
"None at all. But all generals have enemies, and sometimes those are on their own staffs."
"Lucullus is the best general I have served. I will be loyal to him as long as he is loyal to Rome."
"Excellent. You will be returning to the army before the new campaigning season?"
"Yes. From here I will go to spend some time with my family, then I return to the East."
"Good. Gnaeus, I am about to tell you something in strictest confidence, and I want you to convey this to General Lucullus. He does not know me, but he will know my father, the Urban Praetor, by reputation at least. It concerns the actions of his enemies, actions which I think to be not only hostile to Lucullus, but, even worse, pernicious to Rome."
Carbo nodded grimly. "Tell me. I will tell him."
I took a deep breath. This had the feeling of conspiracy, or at least slanderous trouble-making, but I could not ignore my instincts in this matter. "Sometime in the next year, Publius Claudius Pulcher will sail to Asia to join Lucullus as a tribune. He is the general's brother-in-law. Publius is a bad man, and
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