Marius' Mules VII: The Great Revolt (31 page)

Samognatos had returned to Fronto’s singulares following the fall of Avaricon, bringing with him the details of two Arverni leaders - Cavarinos and Critognatos - who had been sent to the oppidum by Vercingetorix and who had been instrumental in the impressive attempts at holding off the legions. No one knew what had happened to them, but their bodies had not yet turned up among the dead. Remembering the pair from erstwhile encounters, Fronto felt sure the two had safely fled Avaricon before the appalling aftermath. Despite the order to take no prisoners, a few slaves had been roped up and sent northeast, back to Agedincum. They might starve on the journey, of course, but if they reached the Roman stronghold they would fetch a few coins for the men. Perhaps three hundred Bituriges there in total. And an estimated hundred escaped into the swamps. And that out of many thousands of inhabitants. One could hardly count the dead for the piles awaiting burning were so huge.

Also, the Condrusi scout had brought back estimates of the Gallic army’s numbers in terms of cavalry, archers and infantry, which tribes constituted the force, and even rumours that had filtered through the army of Vercingetorix’s long-term plans. The scout had performed so well in his task that Fronto had taken him directly to Caesar for debriefing, and the general had praised and lauded the man. The meeting had only been made funnier when Plancus had stormed in, spluttering with complaints that his personal baggage had been lost along with the latest supply train, only for Caesar to chide him through a sly smile for being careless.

Additionally, the city had delivered up a goodly amount of financial gain for Rome, and to please his tired and hungry men, Caesar had given up every part of the reward to the army in plunder. More importantly it had supplied not only one and a half filled granaries, but also an extra grain store from a merchant’s halls, masses of other foodstuffs, and a sizeable haul of livestock. The army had eaten better in one evening than in weeks previously, stuffing their faces and washing down roasted boar meat and mutton with wine and beer.

And a small, select gathering of the officers had retired to Fronto’s tent to recover from the exertions of the day and from their belt-straining guts following such a grand meal. Now, as Priscus loosened his belt another notch and poured himself a cup of wine without missing too badly, Antonius frowned. ‘Where were we, anyway?’

‘Palmatus, I think.’

Antonius turned a serious face on the singulares officer and Fronto grinned. ‘Beware. He’s good at this.’

Antonius narrowed his eyes.

‘You, Palmatus of the
Pompeian
Roman slums, are a festering, disease-ridden pus-sack of a filthy whore’s crotch after a bad dose of the clap!’

Priscus choked on his wine and as the man coughed liquid through his nose and snorted in the background, Palmatus fixed Antonius with a steady glare.

‘You, Marcus Antonius, are an inbred, Curio-humping, dissolute and profligate knob-end, with the grace and charm of a sheep’s rear end after a Sicilian farmer’s enjoyed himself too much.’

Priscus, still recovering from his choking, suddenly exploded in red-faced laughter and, as Fronto caught the look on Antonius’ face, he couldn’t help but laugh out loud. ‘I warned you,’ he grinned.

‘
Curio-humping
?’

‘Oh come on,’ Palmatus shrugged, ‘everyone within a thousand miles of Rome heard
that
rumour!’

Antonius’ eyes bulged. ‘
Inbred
?’

‘All patricians are inbred,’ Palmatus said flatly, his eyes slipping sideways to Fronto, who simply grinned. ‘Nice if you’re aiming it at me,’ the legate replied, ‘but Antonius’ family are plebs, my friend. Like you, but with more money.’

‘And cleaner,’ laughed Antonius, the slight apparently already forgotten by the unpredictable officer.

‘Alright. That’s one to Palmatus, I suppose. Your turn then, man. Try Priscus.’

‘Too easy.’

Priscus narrowed his eyes, as his body still shook with dissipating coughs. ‘Go on, then.’

‘You, Gnaeus
Vinicius
Priscus,’ Palmatus began, and then grinned. ‘Inbred
patrician
,’ a pause for Fronto and Antonius to chuckle, ‘are a stinking hog’s pizzle with…’

He was interrupted by a clatter at the tent’s door.

‘Come,’ called Fronto over the sounds of officers snorting with laughter.

The tent flap was pulled aside to reveal the intimidating shape of Masgava, Fronto’s other singulares commander - a former gladiator of Numidian birth, the man was huge and dangerous.

‘Good,’ Fronto grinned. ‘I told you to join us earlier. You’ve a few rounds to catch up on. Don’t take anything too personally, or it’s going to be a bad night for someone.’

Masgava shook his head. ‘Not here for a social, I’m afraid, sir. Message from the general. He’d like to see you in the command tent. Same goes for commanders Antonius, Varus and Priscus.’

Fronto rolled his eyes. ‘The general never bloody sleeps, does he?’

‘I’m not sure I can stand,’ Priscus said quietly, and Antonius rose to his feet steadily, crossed the tent and reached a hand down to help the prefect from the ground. ‘How can you stand too, Antonius? You’ve put away at least two mugs to my one, and I never saw the water jug pass close to you!’

‘Strong constitution,’ Antonius chuckled. ‘Plebeian, you see? Look at Palmatus over there. He’s sober as a
iudex
, too.’

Priscus glared at Palmatus, but the bodyguard simply shrugged and rose steadily.

‘Bastard. And I’ve yet to meet a sober judge.’

‘Any idea what this is about?’ Fronto asked Antonius as he wobbled to his feet, throwing out an arm to Palmatus, who grabbed it and held him steady.

‘Your guess is as good as mine,’ the senior officer replied. ‘Though earlier he was debating our next move. Perhaps he’s decided. He was noting the fact that the frost and the cold seemed to have finally given up and told me that rain was no impediment to a campaign. Maybe he’s planning to march us on the rebel army, or draw them out to us, for preference.’

‘I don’t think we’re ready to take on Vercingetorix yet,’ Fronto replied. ‘The odds are still too uncertain.’

As Palmatus and Masgava roused Varus from sleep as gently, yet quickly, as they could, the other three officers stepped out into the fresh air, which hit Fronto like a cart full of amphorae, filling his head with thumping and thought-strangling fuzziness.

‘I fear I may have to be rather sick,’ he announced.

‘Then try and do it on the way and not in the general’s tent,’ grinned Antonius. The three stood breathing the night air deeply, waiting for Varus. The storm had passed just before sunset, leaving the world breathing a sigh of relief, with fresh, cool air beneath the first clear sky they had seen in weeks.

‘He might be right about the weather,’ Priscus noted. ‘Campaigning in this will be a breeze after the last couple of months.’

The other two nodded their agreement as the bleary, yawning form of Varus appeared through the tent’s doorway. ‘I was having a nice dream about a young woman.’

‘Shake it off, then. Time to go see old beaky.’

The four officers traipsed across the wet, muddy hillside towards the large tent, whose doorway glowed with flickering golden light, illuminating the two cavalry guardsmen standing outside. The pair nodded their recognition at the four officers as they arrived and gestured for them to enter.

Inside, Caesar sat in his chair with Labienus and Plancus facing him. The general nodded to free seats, and the new arrivals wandered over and sat. As they took their places, Roscius and Calenus, the other officers on the staff, arrived, bowing, and took their seats.

‘I have made my decision about our next move, gentlemen,’ Caesar announced, rubbing his temple. ‘Despite my desire to bring war to the enemy at our earliest convenience, I received a deputation this evening from the Aedui, and I find my hand forced and the decision made for me.’

‘What news do they bring?’ Plancus asked, urgently.

‘Their state is in chaos, according to our friends. They have two men vying for control, splitting the Aedui in two. They have entreated me to adjudicate and heal their state.’

Antonius gave a loud cough, drawing all eyes. ‘Is that really more important than the enemy, who are encamped not five miles from here?’

Caesar fixed his friend with a level look. ‘Frankly, yes. The Aedui are the most numerous, richest and most powerful of the tribes of Gaul. Over the past seven years, no matter who we have fought, we have been allied with the Aedui. They have sent us men and supplies, and we have made them rich and powerful in return. If we cannot control what happens to their government, I foresee at least half of their tribe running into the waiting arms of Vercingetorix. If you think his army is strong now, wait ‘til the Aedui join him and bring a dozen other tribes who currently owe their allegiance to us. No. We must deal with this immediately.’

‘Can they not send their trouble here for you to adjudicate, Caesar?’ asked Calenus.

‘I’m afraid that’s not an option. By their laws, the chief magistrate of their people cannot leave their tribe’s lands. A sensible law, in my opinion, for all the difficulties it might currently be causing me.’

‘And are you planning to uproot the army and take them along with you?’ Fronto asked, ignoring the pounding of his head. ‘Because I’d not recommend marching off to the Aedui poorly-accompanied. What happens if they’ve already thrown in their lot with the rebels before you get there?’

Caesar tapped his temple knowingly. ‘That had occurred to me. Also, Bibracte is eighty miles from here, which means a side-trip of more than a week even at full pace. So I have compromised. Two legions will accompany the baggage back across the Liger River. The other four, unconstrained by baggage, will accompany the staff and myself to Decetio, which is the nearest Aedui oppidum with a forum space where the council and the rival candidates can attend. I sent the ambassadors back with instructions for the parties concerned to meet us there.

‘You mention only six legions,’ Fronto frowned. ‘What of the other two.’

Caesar turned and pointed at the large map hanging on the back wall. ‘According to the information gleaned from your scout while he was among the enemy, Vercingetorix is expecting a large number of reinforcements from the northern tribes and their absence thus far is largely what has stopped him moving against us. While we move east to negate the Aedui danger, Labienus will be taking the Seventh and the Twelfth to the north, collecting the First and the Fifteenth from Agedincum and the cohorts from Vellaunoduno and Cenabum. Armed with four good legions, he will crush the rebel spirit from the Carnutes, the Parisi and all the other northern tribes.’ He turned to Labienus. ‘You can do this with four legions?’

‘With those four, I could depopulate most of Gaul,’ nodded Labienus.

‘Good. Make a spirited attempt to do so.’

‘And what do we believe Vercingetorix will do while we concentrate on his allies again?’ Antonius mused.

‘He will sit tight in his swamp and wait until we are tired and hungry and he outnumbers us. Thus, once we are done with the Aedui, regardless of what Labienus’ situation is, we will have to draw the rebel out of his camp. As soon as we have the Aedui securely under the Roman flag, we march on his hometown.’

Silence fell across the tent.

‘Thoughts, gentleman?’

‘Even as the crow flies, Gergovia is a hundred miles from here,’ Priscus murmured. ‘That’s a long way. And we might find the place empty. Can we be sure that the rebels will follow?’

Caesar nodded. ‘Would you countenance Vercingetorix reaching an undefended Rome? No. He will chase us, and we will turn and bring battle to him once he is in the open. And if we reach Gergovia before he shows his face, we will have the added advantage of his own oppidum to use against him.’

‘It’s dangerous, Caesar,’ Fronto said quietly. ‘The Gauls can move faster than us unless we leave the carts behind. And if Labienus takes a quarter of the army north, he will outnumber us, too.’

‘Not if we draw new levies from the Aedui while we are there…’

The general turned his gaze on Priscus. ‘And the good prefect here - who already knows the region well from his last year - rides with a small party to find Brutus and Aristius and bring their forces back from Arverni lands to add their numbers to ours. They will bring us back up to our current strength, and they should not be more than fifty miles from Gergovia at the moment anyway.’

‘It is bold and dangerous,’ Antonius said in a low voice, which then cracked as a smile spread across his face. ‘I like it.’

Caesar nodded. ‘Labienus, you will ride in the morning with your two legions. You have brought me unprecedented success with every command I have assigned you thus far. I wish to see the same from this season.’

Labienus nodded professionally.

‘Priscus, select a turma of cavalry and ride for Arverni lands. Find Brutus and Aristius and bring them to Gergovia to meet with us. If we are not there, then travel north along the Elaver River until you find us.’

Looking somewhat less thrilled with his mission than Labienus, Priscus nodded and folded his arms.

‘Plancus, you will take the Eighth and the Fourteenth and resupply at the Boii oppidum of Gorgobina. Await our return there.’

Plancus nodded, apparently not fazed at being given the unexciting baggage duty.

‘So the rest of you, along with the Ninth, Tenth, Eleventh and Thirteenth, will accompany me to Decetio to settle the leadership of the Aedui.’

‘Distributing the army around Gaul,’ whispered Varus, leaning close to Fronto, ‘what could possibly go wrong?’

* * * * *

Cavarinos shrank down into himself, attempting to appear as nondescript as possible. The young warrior Litavicus, who had been in the pay of Vercingetorix since the winter time at least and had ridden with Cavarinos months before, had apparently risen in status somewhat, along with Convictolitanis, who now claimed control over the tribe as a whole. Litavicus now commanded a personal retinue of warriors and other young nobles, and it had been a simple matter to insert Cavarinos into his party without attracting any attention. Thus in the day and a half since he had met up with the young Aeduan warrior, he had been at the very centre of events without raising an eyebrow.