The Fall of Veii- Part 2

by Francis Mulhern

  Cicurinus and Ahala took a step forwards and Ahala waved a small wooden tablet in the air, a broad grin appearing on his face as his eyes moved around the crowd. Apuleius felt the power that the patricians held over the mob in front of them and despised it, the arrogance causing his mouth the move into a sneer and his eyes to narrow. The crowd seemed to be holding its breath awaiting his words, some exclaiming the love of the gods and begging for good news. Ahala was a master at picking the right moment and he began to lower the tablet and his face became darker, the noise of people taking a deep breath grew as he moved before he looked up to the gods and spoke.

  “People of Rome” he said as he turned his body to the left and right and waved the tablet over their heads as if by doing so they would be imbued with some divine power from the words which were held within. “Our great Dictator Marcus Furius Camillus has given us a great victory...” Apuleius didn’t hear the next words or see the faces of the patricians as a great shout rang out across the forum, thousands of voices cheering and men and women hugging each other as if saved from death. Apuleius gritted his teeth as he smiled, though inside his anger was rising again.

  Ahala waved his hands for silence as Cicurinus moved forwards and, smiling from ear to ear, suggested that Ahala let the crowd show its appreciation, at which more cheers rang out across the wide space of the forum. Ahala laughed as he held the tablet even higher as if it was a sign of something stupendous that the crowd should all look at in awe. Apuleius shook his head at the way that the patricians could play the crowds and watched as men jumped up and down, some praying to their gods, other simply cheering. Power was everything, he thought as he was slapped hard on the back by a man behind him, to whom he turned and nodded warmly, though his eyes betrayed the anger he felt inside. As he scanned the crowds he noticed the way that the patricians were lapping up the applause, some actually waving to the crowds as if they had personally slain the enemy and been in the front line killing the Etruscans. He looked to Decius, who was also standing looking at the crowd in a more restrained manner and nodded at the older man. Decius nodded back and quickly turned his head back towards the group of patricians who were now starting to speak again as the noise quickly abated.

  “The Etruscan threat at Napete has been wiped out. Jupiter and Mars have brought their wrath on the heads of our enemies. Enemies who bore no right to wage war against us and had no legal voice to challenge us. As is our right under the laws of the gods we have taken their city and property. Slaves” at this he held his head down as the majority of the crowd did the same, everyone obeying the custom of lowering your head when talk of freemen becoming slaves from war was mentioned. “Have been taken and will be sold to good Romans. All monies will be given to the treasury. Great treasures in abundance has Camillus, your Dictator, taken from the enemy and great treasures will Rome give to its people.” Before he had finished speaking the crowd were cheering again as Apuleius considered the words and the way the crowd reacted. As usual the patricians had used the gods, the laws and the spoils from war to work the people into a frenzy of excitement, yet the people were too stupid to realise that it was this that held them down under the foot of the patricians. Apuleius started to form a plan in his mind. He had to prove to the people that the patrician class were not the favourites of the gods; it was the only way to control the minds of the population of Rome. He noticed Decius looking at him curiously and smiled back at him with a nod as the man turned his head back to the patricians.

  “People of Rome” called Ahala, his voice slightly shaky. “Your Dictator marches on Veii to smite our enemy at their door. The auspices are good, the gods are with us and the wrath of Mars and Justitia are coming to Veii. Too long have they held us at bay. Too long have their taken our sons from their homes. Too long have they held back the might of our great City. But the time has come to right the laws of the laws they have broken. The time has come to destroy their arrogance and by the divine rights given to us, your chosen leaders, we will bring victory to every man and woman of Rome.”

  As the cheers rose in volume Apuleius noted the inherent use of the term your chosen and noted it, it would be one he could use in one of his own speeches the future. As the noise continued Apuleius was lost in his own thoughts of anger and hatred for the men standing in front of him.

  ****

  It had taken less than twenty four hours for the Romans to strip the camp and city, taking everything that they could carry and loading baggage carts to breaking point. The Etruscan camp and city had been loaded with so much treasure than Marcus was in awe at the volumes, more than any campaign he had seen in many years. In fact there was so much that Caelio had suggested giving sacks to each of the new slaves to carry rather than leave the less precious items at Napete. Over four thousand slaves lined the roads as they set off to Rome, the women half naked as they were jostled into long lines tied together with ropes and chains. Many held children in their arms, their sad faces showing the horrors they had endured as the men of Rome ransacked their city and dishonoured their mothers. The older men had been killed, some standing and fighting as they knew their fate and others too frail to work and so useless to the conquering Romans. A small force had been sent with the new slaves as they marched back to Rome and its slave market and Marcus had turned his back on them as they had set off in the early mist, his mind on the task that lay ahead at Veii.

  As he approached the Roman camp outside the great walls of Veii after a half a day’s hard ride he was pleased to see the scouts and pickets were alert and the fortifications clean and war-ready; Potitus had done a good job whilst he had been away. The city of Veii loomed over the Roman earthworks which stretched towards the gates, the high ramparts were surrounded by men digging and lifting heavy stones into place to create the roadway on which the army would march over the walls. Arrows fell intermittently on the workers, but the wicker screens and thick shields of legionaries stationed as support to the working men held them at bay.

  The gates of the fortifications were opened as cheering men waved at their approaching leader and his bodyguard, the noise growing as he entered the main fort and dismounted, his grinning face causing even more cheers from the men who came across and thronged around him before their officers called them back to their duties.

  “Camillus” Potitus said from the doorway of the central building, its wooden frame scrubbed immaculately. Marcus waved to his friend and met him with a firm handshake and a final look back at the, still cheering, men in the fort.

  “You must tell me about Napete, we received your report” Potitus said as he gripped Scipio’s hand and they embraced warmly.

  “We will have time later” Marcus replied as he stepped into the cool room from which Potitus had exited to greet them. The room was large and square with a series of wooden stools arranged along the left hand wall stacked one on top of another. Straight ahead was a long table around which several people could sit and Marcus headed across and looked at the map of Veii and his old wooden fort which was laid out as he had left it when he left for Rome.

  “The army will arrive by nightfall” Marcus said as he looked at the scene on the table and the map of Veii with its ordered streets and various squares, ideal for fortifying and holding should the Roman march falter. His mind was already running through problems and issues and he looked up to see both of his friends standing silently watching him. He raised his eyebrows and frowned. “What?” he asked with a smirk. Both men looked to each other before shaking their heads and laughing.

  “You are a driven man Marcus” Scipio smiled as he walked over and leant his hands on the table, his eyes wandering across the map and soldiers placed around the fort that depicted the city of Veii.

  “Rome needs it” came the cold reply.

  “Rome needs you to be rested and thinking clearly. When did you last sleep” Scipio said as he noticed Marcus’ shoulders tense and his jaw stiffen.

  “The enemy are not sleeping” he said as he stood and
looked to both his old friends, their faces smiling but concern n their eyes.

  “And neither are our soldiers Marcus” said Scipio slowly as he placed a hand on Marcus’ shoulder and looked into his eyes. He noticed the tiredness on his face and the thin red lines within the whites of his eyes. He saw the young man he had known all those years ago, carefree and driven by the love of the gods with his focus on duty. Marcus started to protest but Scipio waved him into a seat and took the one next to him, Potitus bringing over a jug of wine and three wooden cups.

  “Here” said Potitus. “The camp is secure since we moved the forts as you suggested. The work at the rampart continues but we have cleared the tunnels and they are ready to use. We have made four ladders for the final assault up the well and we have made several trips in the nights to check the city” at this Marcus’ face lit up and his eyes moved quickly from face to face. “Yes, we have been busy and we are ready” continued Potitus. “But what we need now is our leader to be alert and prepared, giving the right orders at the right time. Without you Dictator of Rome” Potitus saw Marcus’ face flush at the words “in the Triarii guiding the troops we would...”

  Marcus shifted in his seat and stared back hard at Potitus “I will be leading the attack” he said forcefully. The two officers looked to each other momentarily, concern on their faces as Marcus looked to them defiantly.

  “As you wish” said Scipio with a grin which went some way to placating Marcus. “Then you need to rest. A tired sword arm will be the death of you, and that would be bad for all of us.” As he finished he handed Marcus a drink and sat across from him sipping his own watered wine as a short silence fell into the room.

  “It has to be me” Marcus said after a moment. “The prophecy demands it” he said wearily as he looked into the half empty cup, his eyes feeling heavy. Another short silence fell into the room. Marcus looked up to his old friends, men who had grown up with him and knew how he thought and what his words would mean. He sighed and placed the cup down looking at Scipio and shaking his head. “I’ve been through it a thousand times” he said as he lifted the wooden eagle from the string around his neck. “The waters will shrink before him in his hour of need. The Eagle will lead Rome and the city must be purged” his heavy eyes flicked up to both faces as they looked to him. “It is all here. Veii is where the prophecy has led me” he said with certainty. “Fortuna and Mater Matuta serve his cause” he added. “Mater Matuta is within Veii. She has called to return to Rome in her Roman form of Juno. I must do this. I must defeat Veii” he said with a hungry look in his eyes. Both men stared at their commander, and neither spoke, as Marcus looked back to the map. “Here” he said “the water has shrunk and we have found these tunnels. Juno wants me to destroy this city never to be a city again the words say” he looked up as he said them “and so it must be done with my hand. I must be the one to lead the attack through the tunnels. Don’t ask me why, but I know it must be me.”

  Scipio glanced to Potitus and then back to Marcus. “Then you must rest and formulate your plan” he said as he stood, his hands on his hips as he looked down on his commander and friend. “The army will be some hours yet so you have time to rest, sleep and eat before the officers arrive and we set out the orders” he placed a hand on Marcus’ forearm. “The gods look over you Marcus, but your body is mortal and the flesh weak. Sleep, eat and prepare. If the gods don’t demand it from you, we do” he smiled as Potitus, his eyes wide, agreed heartily.

  ****

  Mella slumped onto the chair, his arms and legs ached terribly after the long march. Why had he decided to walk and not ride? He was getting too old for legionary marches. He winced at a blister on his right heel and decided he needed to heat a needle and burst it later. Narcius entered the small room and threw his sword belt and helmet onto the floor with a loud clatter.

  “Gods that was hard work” he added as he bent down and pulled a water pouch from the belt he had discarded and took several deep draughts before offering it to Mella, who was busy removing the thick leather chest-guard that he had worn for the march, dark patches of sweat under the arms and along the bottom edge.

  “Don’t let the men hear you say that” laughed Mella as he took the pouch. “Centurion Narcius. Nasty bastard, hard as nails, nothing stops him” he laughed as water dripped off his chin. Narcius grunted and half laughed before sitting heavily in a chair and unlacing his thick sandals, the heavy leather dusty and worn.

  “What time’s the briefing?” Mella asked after another deep drink.

  “About four hours. I’ve got Maximus set to wake me in three” he said in a matter-of-fact manner.

  “Good”

  “I need to be up to get my nasty face on” he laughed as he edged past Mella and slumped on a low cot which lay across the edge of the room The door opened and Caelio walked in, his head shaking.

  “Fifteen miles without a stop” he moaned as he threw his belt to the floor beside Narcius’ and took the water pouch from Mella’s outstretched hand with a curt nod. “I only lost two men, both left for the cart” he said as his lip curled “and the latrine ditches tonight” he finished.

  “I lost six” Narcius said, his eyes remaining closed as he lay back with his arms behind his head.

  “Twelve” Mella mumbled as Narcius sat bolt upright.

  “Twelve?” he said incredulously. “Twelve” he said again with a glance to Caelio. “My father...” he started before Mella grabbed the water pouch from him and threw it in his direction. Narcius caught it deftly with a smirk, took a drink and lay back down laughing.

  “We know all about your father marching thirty miles in a day with a hundred men and all of them finishing without even a blister” he laughed as he shook his head and Caelio burst out laughing.

  After a moment Narcius opened one eye “Truth be told I never believed that story. The old goat couldn’t walk a hundred yards without moaning about his bad knee” he said affectionately.

  “Well we will have some stories to tell our children after this” Caelio added quietly as he stripped to his tunic and simply flung the rest of his clothes to the floor. As he did so a small bag clinked off the inside of his belt and split, the noise of several heavy gold coins rolling across the floor bringing both Centurions to a sitting position as Caelio jumped up and started to gather the coins hurriedly.

  Narcius eyed Caelio for a moment without speaking, the tension in the room growing palpably as the coins were gathered. Mella looked to Narcius and then back to Caelio, his eyes darting from man to man anxiously.

  “You holding back on us, brother?” Narcius said as he sat forward, the muscles in his arms tensing and his eyes narrowing and flicking from the coins to Caelio’s eyes. Mella placed a hand on the hilt of the dagger in his belt, the only one of the three men who had any sort of weapon on him.

  Caelio swallowed hard as he looked nervously to Narcius. The man was a bull, solid muscle from endless training, arms like tree trunks and shoulders as wide as two men, there was no way he could win a fight with him. Mella was smaller and thinner but was a master with a sword and dagger, he had to think his way out of this one.

  “Gods no” he said as he sat back and frowned, his face aggrieved at the words of the two men. He breathed out a long, slow breath and shook his head stretching his feet out in front of him trying to look relaxed though his heart was beating as fast as if he was on a run in full kit. He looked over his shoulder as if checking that nobody was listening despite the fact that there were only the three of them in the room.

  “Look” he said as he lowered his head and held out the coins “Greek gold from my Uncle” he said as handed a coin to Mella, his voice placating and sounding almost embarrassed. “You know what he’s like?” he said as his eyes looked at both faces as they bored into his. “He” he shook his head and pursed his lips tightly before continuing “he gave them to me in case I was captured. Said I could bargain my way out of any trouble” he looked to the floor to emphasise the embarra
ssment he was trying to show before looking back up at Narcius and shaking his head again at his disbelieving eyes. “Come on lads, where would I get this much gold? You don’t think I stole it?” he looked even more exasperated as both the men in the room simply sat and glared at him for a moment as his words hung in the air. It was one of the rules of war that all spoils were listed and shared between officers and men with a percentage going to the state. Mella had fallen foul of just such a rule many years before at the hands of his, now, friend Fasculus and as such he looked long and hard at Caelio. He was a good officer and worked hard, his men respected him even if he was a little soft on them, but did he trust him? He had certainly spent many nights at Veii disappearing into the woods, but Mella just assumed he was seeing one of the women from the camp so had thought as little of it as any of the other officers who had seen him sneaking off and returning later flushed but smiling. He decided to give him the benefit of the doubt.

  Mella broke the silence with a genuine smile as he lifted his belt and pulled a thick leather pouch from under his tunic, the bag of silver and bronze half the size of the gold that Caelio held. “My bargaining and betting has only earned me this, but my uncle isn’t a Senator” he said as he glanced over to Narcius who eyed the haul suspiciously before shaking his head and putting his head down again.

  “You could buy an army to protect you with that much, Caelio. I’ve never seen so much gold. Remind me to stay close to you tomorrow, I’d hate to see one of Mella’s twelve men limp over to your dead body and find that stash” he said as he took a deep breath and strained with an arch of his back before a loud fart ripped the air and all three men burst into loud laughter.

  ****

  The light had faded quickly as a roll of clouds fell into the sky, their grey mass suggesting rain despite the heat. In the shadows of the thin buildings along the road beyond the Pons Sublicius Apuleius jumped from his horse, handing the reins to a thick set young man with short cropped brown hair and a wispy beard. His eyes searched the trees and buildings nearby, but saw nothing suspicious, as he had hoped. The man lifted his leg and Apuleius cupped his hand to grip his shin and lift him onto the horses back; not his best horse but a good one nonetheless.