Around the square the officers straightened in anticipation. The sound of the horns from both armies faded and, a few minutes later, the sound of tramping feet and creaking wheels announced the approach of the tribal envoys. A Roman honour guard of cavalry entered the square first, fanning out and taking positions around the empty end of the square. Moments later, Tetricus rode in, his plumed helmet under his arm and his weapon sheathed. The Aquilifer of the Tenth rode at his side, a Roman eagle leading the way for the Gauls. The whole event had been well choreographed in advance by Longinus. Once the honour guard were in place, the first of the chieftains arrived, riding in a chariot pulled by two large black horses, with a ceremonial spear bearer by his side. He glittered in gold finery and wore a very well made cloak of deepest blue over his native tunic and breeches. A small group of his horsemen accompanied him. As the chariot ground to a halt, raising more dust than all of the cavalry had managed, the chieftain stepped down and alighted. The horsemen and the chariot pulled off to one side and exited the square by the other road, where they would be taken care of by one of Longinus’ cavalry alae.
As the second chieftain arrived in his chariot, the first walked to the centre of the square, gave a deep bow to Liscus, a curt half-bow to Caesar, and strode over to one of the campaign chairs that had been set aside and covered with fine silks to accommodate the guests. The second leader stepped from his chariot and followed suit as further natives entered. Fronto watched with interest as the chieftains arrived by the dozen. He found himself wondering how many tribes there were in this land and how many the army would have to put down before this land could be called a Province, for he was under absolutely no illusions now that that was the future of Gaul. The tribes that already held an alliance with Rome or that could be considered pro-Roman were self evident. Here and there Roman-style tunics or jewellery caught his eye. Some had gone so far as to wear purple after the fashion of Senators or some of the Eastern client Kings.
Finally all of the guests had arrived. With a salute to Caesar and a bow to Liscus, Tetricus turned and trotted from the square, the cavalry escort following him in precisely-drilled motion. Four of the chieftains stood and faced each other. Without a word being spoken, some kind of agreement was reached and three of them sat. The fourth turned to face the two leaders. He wore a long white tunic and robe over his Gaulish breeches, his beard was whitish grey and braided at the sides and his hair was held back from his forehead with a band of interwoven flax. Although he bore the traditional Celtic broadsword at his waist, he leaned on a long, knotted oak staff. Fronto squinted, trying to take in as much detail as possible. This must be one of the Druids of whom he had heard many tales since his first stationing in Spain. Most of those tales, told by Romans, had been variations on a horror theme, though he had never seen a Druid in all those years of campaigning. If they were all like this specimen, Fronto could see why they held such a position of influence in Celtic society. The man was imposing in the extreme. His long hair and beard, the white robes and the staff were partially responsible for that, though much of his arresting appearance came from the fact that the man stood head and shoulders above anyone else in the square. He must have been close to seven feet tall, ox shouldered and with fists like hams. As he opened his mouth to speak, his voice proved every inch the match of his physique, deep and booming.
Though he spoke in his local tongue, a member of the Aedui stood on hand as an interpreter and translated the Druid’s words for the benefit of the Romans.
“Liscus of the Aedui, the tribal council brings you greeting. As it is not your duty to host the gathering this year, we are not ungrateful for your cooperation in this matter. After the day’s discussion, we will provide fitting tribute for your hospitality. However, our business must come first. Not all of the tribes have chosen to attend today.”
For emphasis, the Druid turned and gestured to around a dozen empty seats with his staff. The absences had apparently not gone unnoticed, from the rumble of agreement among the chieftains. Fronto had paid no attention to that particular detail.
“With a powerful Roman army making waves in the centre of our land, and strong tribes both supporting and opposing this man,” a quick gesture toward Caesar, “some chieftains disapprove and feel they cannot in good conscience attend this meeting.”
Liscus nodded gravely.
“I understand, Aforix.”
The Druid nodded in return, his face still bearing a grave expression. He then turned to face Caesar. The interpreter was a little slower with his translation this time.
“Roman, I will state outright that I do not like you. I disapprove of your people in our lands. I think you bring us nothing and that you will take away our future. I do not think that you truly believe in your Gods. For me, this is unthinkable. However, I am not here today to defy you, nor to bring opposition. I come to represent that element that refuses to be here. I am not your enemy, but nor can I cannot consider myself your ally.”
Caesar waved his hand dismissively.
“I thank you for your candour. I have experienced Druidic welcome before, and I cannot say that I would expect anything else. We shall agree to disagree at this time.”
The Druid nodded once more.
“Despite my feelings, I have agreed to speak for all of the tribes in the first and most important matter.”
He gestured toward the Aeduan interpreter and gabbled off a long sentence in his own language. The interpreter turned to the Romans
“I have been forbidden from translating until I am given the signal to begin again.”
With the barest glance at Liscus the man nodded hurriedly. Fronto was impressed once again at the respect and awe these Druids carried among the Celts.
The man turned once more toward the chieftains and rattled off a long speech in his own language. A few chieftains quizzed him and he replied calmly in his deep voice. After more than five minutes, with a word, the chieftains all stood and slowly drew their swords. Next to Fronto, Plancus jolted to his feet, his hand reaching for the pommel of his sword. Fronto’s hand closed round his wrist and jerked him back into his seat and he whispered in the young officer’s ear.
“Don’t be stupid boy. If they were going to cause trouble, they’d hardly do it slowly and packed into a tight group. What the hell could they hope to achieve? Sit down and be still.”
As Plancus slowly turned a beetroot red, Fronto faced the gathering again, interested in what this ritual could mean.
At a further word, the chieftains plunged the swords into the dirt. Liscus rose and took a step forward, plunging his own sword into the ground in front of the dais.
Fronto leaned slightly closer to Sabinus.
“What the hell do you think that was all about?”
Sabinus smiled.
“I think it was some kind of vote. I noticed that a number of them changed hands with their swords. If you look, they’ve all grounded their swords either to the left or the right.”
The Druid turned once more to face Caesar and slammed the butt of his staff into the hard earth with a loud ‘crack’ that raised a small cloud of dust. Behind him, the chieftains all sat. With a quick nod to the interpreter, the old man once again addressed the Romans.
“It appears to me that you brought war to the Helvetii for your own personal reasons involving both hatred and ambition and few of those behind me differ in their opinion. However, we are not unmindful of the fact that the Helvetii are a warlike people, and had brought violence to the rest of Gaul. However unintentionally, you have aided the tribes of Gaul in your quest for vengeance. For that you have our thanks.”
Caesar directed a humourless smile at the Druid.
“Flattery indeed from one of the opponents of Roman involvement. Flattery, I feel, that is about to come with a price. Am I wrong?”
The tall Druid grimaced at the general. He clearly disliked the position he found himself in, and Caesar was determined to make the Gauls plead. The man once more addressed the General.
“As you are no doubt already aware the Germanic tribes have, for many years, been employed as mercenaries by Gaulish tribes when extra force was needed. In particular, during power struggles between those supporting the Sequani and Arverni and the Aedui.”
Caesar nodded.
“I have made it my business to know some of your history, yes.”
“It appears too much freedom has been given to these Germans in the past. In recent months they have not returned to their own lands across the Rhine. Indeed their leader, a man called Ariovistus, has brought more and more of them across the river. Where these Germans had once all but destroyed Aeduan power in Gaul, they now cause grief to the Sequani, for it is in their land that Ariovistus has settled.”
The Druid gestured to one of the empty seats.
“Despite all his power and authority, the chieftain of the Sequani is not here today. He is busy in his own lands protecting his people from these marauding Germans. They already occupy a third of his land and are making demands of more every day. Many of the tribes of Gaul feel that the time has come to request the aid of Roman forces. The Germans are a powerful people. They crushed the Sequani at Magetobria and took hostages. If they can defeat one of the most powerful tribes in Gaul so easily, we cannot do other than look for help from the victor over the Helvetii. The Aedui are diminished after many years of war, as are the Arverni. The Sequani have been smashed by the Germans, and the Helvetii by you. The four greatest powers upon whom we might rely: all gone.”
The mumbling among the chieftains behind him spoke volumes of how the Gauls felt at finding themselves forced to seek Roman aid.
“If you know anything of the Germans, Roman, and I think you do, then you know they will not be satisfied with the land they have taken. They will continue to conquer until all Gaul is their land and all the Gauls their slaves. Ariovistus is a cruel and vicious man, and once he has everything he needs, other German leaders will follow in his footsteps.”
The Druid gritted his teeth as he prepared to make the request he so hated to make.
“Caesar, in the name of the tribal council, and for the good of all Gaul, we seek your assistance in driving Ariovistus from our lands. Some hope that merely the threat of Rome will be enough to make him release his hostages and return to his own lands, but I fear that force is the only solution. We are a proud people, and will ask you this only once. Should you refuse us we will not beg. What is your answer?”
Caesar smiled, though Fronto couldn’t understand why. They damn well should beg. They needed Rome and everyone knew it. He could only believe that Caesar was already prepared for this and that the Gaul was trying to manoeuvre him. If he was, he’d be in for a shock. The general knew a thing or two about rhetoric.
Caesar cleared his throat.
“Whatever your fears and whatever your opinion of me, Aforix, I support the pride of the Gauls. Pride is what makes a people great, and Rome’s allies should be proud. I say allies, for that is what you are, regardless of what you believe. Very well, we will march on this Ariovistus for you, and drive him from Gaul. However, the war with the Helvetii has seriously depleted our numbers, and to march against a large Germanic force without sufficient manpower would give us no better chance than the Sequani. I will require two agreements from your chieftains in return for our aid.”
The Druid paused a moment as the interpreter relayed the words to him. He frowned and nodded reluctantly at the general. Fronto realised that he was holding his breath. A lot rode on the outcome of this meeting and the general had something up his sleeve. He was being far too deferential and supportive of the Gauls and Fronto had seen that before. He knew he had them over a barrel and was playing them. Caesar cleared his throat and spoke in a loud, clear voice.
“I will require each tribe to adopt the oath that the Aedui and our other allies have already taken. I do not expect you to submit to Rome, but I do demand peace and an alliance.”
As the interpreter passed this on, the murmuring grew among the chieftains.
“Furthermore, we will require a commitment of military support. There is no time for us to reinforce the legions with troops raised within the Empire. Instead, I will allocate one of my staff officers to speak to each chief and arrange a number of levies to join us as auxiliary troops and bolster the numbers.”
The muttering grew to a deep grumble. Fronto wondered how far Caesar could push them before they rejected him. Caesar, on the other hand, seemed to be prepared.
“You can view this in a negative light if you so desire. I urge you all, however, to think on two things. Firstly, in return for this you will receive not only our aid against Ariovistus, but also Roman support in future troubles, as well as trade agreements. Secondly, by delivering auxiliary levies into the army, you yourselves will share in the victory and the destruction of the Germans. What price your pride if you refuse? Once you have made your decisions, your spokesman can find my staff and I at my command tent outside the walls. I have no doubt that there is much that you need to discuss.”
With that Caesar stood and, gesturing to the other officers, turned and strode from the square.
* * * * *
“I just don’t understand why you want to go and deal with him now!”
Fronto sat back, his left hand still gripping the arm of his campaign chair. His right was still too weak for him to even remotely consider clenching his fist. Caesar sighed patiently and replied.
“I know that we need more men and that waiting for the next campaigning season would give us those troops but, regardless of whether the Gauls had even asked me, we’d still need to deal with this for our own benefit. If the Germanic tribes are allowed to settle on this side of the Rhine, how long will it be before they oust the Aedui, d’you think? And after that? How long before they cross the Rhone and threaten our own border? No, they need to be dealt with soon.”
Fronto grimaced.
“But we’re not ready, Caesar. Even if they agree to supply us with extra auxiliary troops, we’ll still be a considerably smaller army than the one that set out after the Helvetii, and this enemy is reputedly much more dangerous. The new auxilia will be untrained and unruly. Even Scipio wouldn’t have launched a campaign early if a difference of a few months would bring the army back up to full strength.”
Caesar tapped the arm of his chair.
“Fronto, I do know what I’m doing. We cannot wait until next spring. However, I’m also aware of the dangers of untrained cavalry. I shall be having a word with Longinus once the rest get here. I’m bringing him back into the senior staff. Publius Sulpicius Rufus will be assigned as legate of the Ninth. I want Longinus to devote all of his considerable talent as a cavalry commander to the army’s mounted contingent. I’m making Longinus ‘Commander of the cavalry’ with authority to completely overhaul the entire division.”
Fronto thought for a moment.
“I suppose that makes sense. He is good with cavalry. What’s Rufus like, I don’t think I know him?”
Caesar smiled.
“You’ll have seen him at staff briefings. He’s quite competent. Commanded men out in Greece. I think it’s time he had a chance with us. Any thoughts?”
Fronto’s brow creased.
“There’s a couple of things I’d like you to consider, Caesar. Firstly, my position on the strategic staff. I don’t mind being one of your senior circle, and I don’t mind being a legate, but by doing both, I’m forgetting how to do either of them well. I think you should either put me back in permanent command of the Tenth or make me permanent staff and promote Priscus to command of the Tenth.”
Caesar shook his head.
“I will consider assigning you back to the legion, though I may still occasionally need to haul you out. I will not consider Priscus for senior officer, though. He is a centurion. A good one, but low-born. He is at the top of the ladder as far as he is concerned. The only place he might go from here is camp prefect. He’s most use where he is.”
Fronto frowned again.
“The second thing I’d like you to think on is command of the Eighth. Balbus is a very good officer and a personal friend. I can think of no one I’d trust more, but he should be back in Massilia, or even Italy, with his wife and daughters. I’d like you to consider giving him release at the end of this campaign to return to his family. You’ve got lots of desperately ambitious little magpies in the staff that would love to fill his boots.”
Once more Caesar shook his head.
“Marcus, quite apart from the fact that I prize Balbus as one of my top officers, could you see him laying down his command and walking away? I won’t ask it of him. If he should ever ask to be released, I would do so gratefully, but I’ll not ask it of him. You should appreciate that; you’re more like him than you might care to guess.”
Fronto grunted and stretched his arms.
“Shall I shout the others in now?”
The general nodded and Fronto climbed from the seat and threw open the tent flaps. To his surprise not only were the staff officers gathered just down the slope, but the Druid and several of the Gaulish chieftains stood in a knot next to them.
“Sir, I think your answer’s waiting outside.”
Caesar straightened in his chair.
“Best show the whole parade in then.”
At a gesture from Fronto, Sabinus called together the staff and exchanged brief words with one of the chieftains. The Gauls made their way into the command tent, with the staff close on their heels. The officers filed off to either side as they entered, taking positions around the edge of the tent, while the Gauls stood just inside the tent flap. The tall and imposing Druid glanced around at the Romans, waiting for the movement to cease and, once they were all in position, stepped a little closer to Caesar.
Once again, the interpreter among the retinue of Gaulish chiefs translated the huge man’s words.
“Roman, the chieftains of almost all of the tribes of Gaul have agreed to take an oath, though they want me to examine the oath before they take it to be sure they are not selling themselves and their lands. They also each agree to provide a small number of warriors to help you in this war.”
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