‘You are our figurehead and general, Esus. Remember that. Not our king.’
‘I am the man who will rid you of Rome and if you wish to succeed in your endeavour, you will do exactly what I tell you, and when I do so. You will tell the Carnutes and the Senones not to move until I give the word. The word will be given before the spring - you know that.’
The druid nodded. ‘It is said that their Crassus has died out in the east and that Rome teeters on the brink of disaster. It is said that Caesar will have to concentrate on Rome if he is to survive. The foretelling is that Caesar will be slow to move and mired in the workings of his webs in Rome.’
‘We will wait until the legions are settled in for the winter and believe themselves secure and in control. Until Caesar is in his palace and dealing with the failings of his own people. And then, when all is right and our people are ready, straining like the river against the dam, the word will be given, and the Senones can loose the fire arrow that signals the end of Rome.’
They watched the sagging figure of Acco, who must even now be dead.
‘Send word to all our friends. There must be no exchange of hostages - no evidence to betray us. Only the oaths of all. Each man must be ready to act when that fire is unleashed.’
The druid let out a slow, controlled breath.
‘The time is upon us.’
END
Author’s Note
Book six was a tough prospect, and I hope the result is what readers of the series had hoped. In general theme, there was always a plan with this book and the next to pull back from the political and personal troubles in Rome and return to the war in Gaul as a main focus, in anticipation of the coming great events of 52BC. It was, however, simply unfeasible to return to the familiar military dynamic of the first few books. Too many chasms in relationships needed to be bridged following the dramatic events of books four and five, and so book six was naturally destined to be the connection between them, where things are returned to ‘normal’.
And it has happened. Now, Fronto will return to command of the Tenth in time for the climax of the war and one of the most dramatic battles in the history of Rome. Priscus is in position, Antonius has joined the fold, Crassus is gone and the stage is set.
The theme of this novel, as you are now well aware, was the hunt for Ambiorix. This is a personal decision. I examined in detail the events of 53BC when planning the book and made a conscious decision to focus on one aspect of the year and push others into the background. It had to be done. For those of you who’ve not read Caesar’s commentaries, I’ll try and explain why. To those who have, I suspect it will be self-evident.
Caesar’s sixth book (released into the public that same year, we believe) is the weakest, shortest, and least realistic of all his works. It reads partially as a catalogue of failures and half-successes, and partially as a rambling diatribe on the mystical and socio-political nature of the barbarian. It has all the hallmarks of a work that was put together in a hurry, using pointless filler and hearsay to pad out what would otherwise be a tiny work with little merit.
Book 6 of Caesar’s commentaries tells us of his punitive campaigns against the Belgae, which are brutal and have long-lasting effects. It is believed that it took over a generation for the region to even remotely recover and achieve a basic liveable sustainability. Caesar systematically works through the tribes, flattening them without any great notable battle or siege, while to the south Labienus achieves victory after victory in his name. Then, Caesar decides to cross the Rhine once more and disappears into the Suevi woodlands.
At this point, Caesar for some obscure reason (simply: it must be to pad out the work and provide a point to his abortive journey) goes off on a rambling description of the Gauls and Germans, their social stratigraphy, their nature and culture, and – most pointlessly – a description of the massive German forest, even including a number of fantastic, mythical creatures. While the information he imparts is extremely valuable in terms of historical information, it has little bearing on the book and sits strangely in the midst of a running diary. In short, in turning this book into a workable Fronto novel, I had to pull the text apart, make some assumptions and, most important of all, ignore large quantities of drivel.
After a short, abortive time in the German forests, Caesar changes his mind, returns across the river and begins the hunt for Ambiorix properly. I have expanded upon this somewhat by making Ambiorix and a vow of Caesar’s the main reason behind the punitive campaigns also. Caesar’s work tells us that, despite everything, he fails to capture Ambiorix and it is assumed that the fugitive manages to cross the Rhine to the Germans. He disappears from history at this point in a shroud of mystery.
I chose to provide an answer to what happened to the man, as well as a feasible reason why it was not reported.
Fronto’s part in this hunt is of course fiction, but at least one scene in it is drawn from record. Basilus and his cavalry really did happen on Ambiorix quite by chance in the Ardennes and really did miss capturing him by a hair’s breadth. Cativolcus is noted to have committed suicide by the poison of the yew. That Fronto could have been there was too good an opportunity to miss.
And that leads me neatly to Vercingetorix and the whole conspiracy.
In the original texts, the years leading up to the great revolt see a number of lesser revolutions, some of which were more successful than others. Nowhere does it state that Vercingetorix and the druids had been in league, secretly developing a plan for outright revolt over years. In fact, the obvious conclusion from the text is that the great Gallic hero did not actually arise until between books 6 & 7, largely as a reaction to events that left Caesar in difficulty. It would be a rebellion of convenience.
I chose a few books back to see the ‘great revolt’ as the climax of an ongoing conspiracy rather than a rash reaction, and I stand by that, regardless of any criticism I may receive for straying from Caesar’s words. Vercingetorix is, to France and the Gauls, a great hero. Their Churchill or Joan of Arc… their Robin Hood. And such a man deserves more than: ‘Caesar’s busy? Right. Get some swords, lads – we’re going to kick some Roman bottom!’ In fact, Vercingetorix is to some extent my Anti-Caesar. He is a man of no small talent and of huge charisma.
In short, small liberties have been taken in order to provide a novel with a tighter plot and a realistic premise, rather than a bunch of half-arsed village burnings, a holiday in a German forest, some drug-induced hallucinations of mythical beasts, a fruitless hunt, and an almost-accidental revolt.
I have played with some locations, too. There is ongoing discussion about Aduatuca/Atuatuca, and its proposed sites, as well as the nature of the Aduatuci in relation to the Eburones. I chose to solve the problem by making there two of them and making Sabinus and Cotta’s camp nothing to do with either. After all, Atuatuca is a name that means fortress, supposedly, and there is more than one Roman ‘Chester’ so why not more than one Atuatuca? Some places required their Belgic names to be constructed. Dinant in Belgium is at least presumed to be the sacred valley of Divo-Nanto. But Espaduno, for instance, is my construction for the ancient name of Spa in Belgium. Should you wish to examine the site of Basilus’ folly in the book, look for aerial views of Spa. The towns of the Nervii that are besieged are Celtic oppida, and Asadunon is my creation for the oppidum of Asse, while Avenna is my creation for Avesnelles. We won’t even go into the nature of the locations of the Menapii, since they cover the very north of Belgium and into the Netherlands, and the systematic drainage and reclamation of those lands have rendered it impossible to gain a reasonable picture of what it would have been like when it was marshy and swampy.
Last but not least on my list of deviations from the norm are the singulares.
A Praetor in times of war would in Republican days have a personal bodyguard (Caesar’s cavalry under Ingenuus) and this is the basis for the eventually-notorious Praetorian guard. Generals and emperors are noted to have had ‘singulares’ bodyguards
in later eras and, while there is no direct reference to their existence in the late republic, there is also no definitive work that denies their existence, and there may be (my thanks to the knowledgeable Mike Bishop for producing fragments of texts for me) hints that such a things happened. I have chosen to make it somewhat optional and mutable, as was the case with so many things in this era of change. Fronto needed his singulares to go hunting with, and Masgava and Palmatus needed a job.
And before I metaphorically ‘down pen’ I will confirm the next step in the saga. Marius’ Mules VII is set for roughly a year from this day – give or take – but as you will be aware from the last chapters and the epilogue of this book, there are a number of events that may need a little extra coverage before I get my teeth into the great revolt. As such, I intend in the next few months to release a collection of short tales under the title ‘Marius’ Mules: Prelude to War’. This will provide a bridge, covering a few of the events of winter 53/52BC in detail. I will, of course, cover the same ground in extremely brief form at the start of the next book, but for those wishing to delve into the detail, I feel it is a project worth the effort.
As usual, thanks for reading thus far and I hope you enjoyed book six with its fights, betrayals, conspiracies, prophecies, hunts and… and its bats!. Fronto is an old friend now, and I look on him with immense fondness, all the more so since only a day ago, the great Peter O’Toole passed away, and his Flavius Silva in ‘Masada’ (1981) is one of the main influences in my portrayal of Fronto. It feels like half of Fronto has just vanished. Dis Manibus Flavius Silva. Enjoy Elysium.
Fronto will be back to confront the Gauls in their greatest moment.
Until then, thank you everyone and have a good year.
Simon Turney
December 2013
Glossary of Terms
Ad aciem: military command essentially equivalent to ‘Battle stations!’
Amphora (pl. Amphorae): A large pottery storage container, generally used for wine or olive oil.
Aquilifer: a specialised standard bearer that carried a legion’s eagle standard.
Aurora: Roman Goddess of the dawn, sister of Sol and Luna.
Bacchanalia: the wild and often drunken festival of Bacchus.
Buccina: A curved horn-like musical instrument used primarily by the military for relaying signals, along with the cornu.
Capsarius: Legionary soldiers trained as combat medics, whose job was to patch men up in the field until they could reach a hospital.
Civitas: Latin name given to a certain class of civil settlement, often the capital of a tribal group or a former military base.
Cloaca Maxima: The great sewer of republican Rome that drained the forum into the Tiber.
Contubernium (pl. Contubernia): the smallest division of unit in the Roman legion, numbering eight men who shared a tent.
Cornu: A G-shaped horn-like musical instrument used primarily by the military for relaying signals, along with the buccina. A trumpeter was called a cornicen.
Corona: Lit: ‘Crowns’. Awards given to military officers. The Corona Muralis and Castrensis were awards for storming enemy walls, while the Aurea was for an outstanding single combat.
Curia: the meeting place of the senate in the forum of Rome.
Cursus Honorum: The ladder of political and military positions a noble Roman is expected to ascend.
Decurion: 1) The civil council of a Roman town. 2) Lesser cavalry officer, serving under a cavalry prefect, with command of thirty two men.
Dolabra: entrenching tool, carried by a legionary, which served as a shovel, pick and axe combined.
Duplicarius: A soldier on double the basic pay.
Equestrian: The often wealthier, though less noble mercantile class, known as knights.
Foederati: non-Roman states who held treaties with Rome and gained some rights under Roman law.
Gaesatus: a spearman, usually a mercenary of Gallic origin.
Gladius: the Roman army’s standard short, stabbing sword, originally based on a Spanish sword design.
Groma: the chief surveying instrument of a Roman military engineer, used for marking out straight lines and calculating angles.
Haruspex (pl. Haruspices): A religious official who confirms the will of the Gods through signs and by inspecting the entrails of animals.
Immunes: legionary soldiers who possessed specialist skills and were consequently excused the more onerous duties.
Kalends: the first day of the Roman month, based on the new moon with the ‘nones’ being the half moon around the 5th-7th of the month and the ‘ides’ being the full moon around the 13th-15th.
Labrum: Large dish on a pedestal filled with fresh water in the hot room of a bath house.
Laconicum: the steam room or sauna in a Roman bath house.
Legatus: Commander of a Roman legion
Liburna: A small, fast moving oar-or-sail based galley-type vessel.
Lilia (Lit. ‘Lilies’): defensive pits three feet deep with a sharpened stake at the bottom, disguised with undergrowth, to hamper attackers.
Lupercalia: Festival in Rome, noted for its riotous behaviour.
Mansio and mutatio: stopping places on the Roman road network for officials, military staff and couriers to stay or exchange horses if necessary.
Mare Nostrum: Latin name for the Mediterranean Sea (literally ‘Our Sea’).
Mars Gravidus: an aspect of the Roman war God, ‘he who precedes the army in battle’, was the God prayed to when an army went to war.
Massilia: Nominally-free Greek port on the south coast of Gaul, allied to Rome, now known as Marseilles.
Miles: the Roman name for a soldier, from which we derive the words military and militia among others.
Optio: A legionary centurion’s second in command.
Orichalcum: a lost metal, possibly a mix of gold and silver, or possibly akin to brass.
Pilum (p: Pila) : the army’s standard javelin, with a wooden stock and a long, heavy lead point.
Pilus Prior: The most senior centurion of a cohort and one of the more senior in a legion.
Praetor: a title granted to the commander of an army. cf the Praetorian Cohort.
Praetorian Cohort: personal bodyguard of a General.
Proconsul: Former consul and governor of a proconsular province.
Primus Pilus: The chief centurion of a legion. Essentially the second in command of a legion.
Pugio: the standard broad bladed dagger of the Roman military.
Quadriga: a chariot drawn by four horses, such as seen at the great races in the circus of Rome.
Samarobriva: oppidum on the Somme River, now called Amiens.
Scorpion, Ballista & Onager: Siege engines. The Scorpion was a large crossbow on a stand, the Ballista a giant missile throwing crossbow, and the Onager a stone hurling catapult.
Signifer: A century’s standard bearer, also responsible for dealing with pay, burial club and much of a unit’s bureaucracy.
Subura: a lower-class area of ancient Rome, close to the forum, that was home to the red-light district’.
Testudo: Lit- Tortoise. Military formation in which a century of men closes up in a rectangle and creates four walls and a roof for the unit with their shields.
Triclinium: The dining room of a Roman house or villa.
Trierarch: Commander of a Trireme or other Roman military ship.
Tuba: A Roman musical instrument – a straight horn.
Turma: A small detachment of a cavalry ala consisting of thirty two men led by a decurion.
Vexillum (Pl. Vexilli): The standard or flag of a legion.
Vindunum: later the Roman Civitas Cenomanorum, and now Le Mans in France.
Vineae: moveable wattle and leather wheeled shelters that covered siege works and attacking soldiers from enemy missiles.
If you enjoyed the Marius' Mules series why not also try:
The Thief's Tale by S.J.A. Turney
Istanbul, 1481. The once great city of
Constantine that now forms the heart of the Ottoman Empire is a strange mix of Christian, Turk and Jew. Despite the benevolent reign of the Sultan Bayezid II, the conquest is still a recent memory, and emotions run high among the inhabitants, with danger never far beneath the surface. Skiouros and Lykaion, the sons of a Greek country farmer, are conscripted into the ranks of the famous Janissary guards and taken to Istanbul where they will play a pivotal, if unsung, role in the history of the new regime. As Skiouros escapes into the Greek quarter and vanishes among its streets to survive on his wits alone, Lykaion remains with the slave chain to fulfil his destiny and become an Islamic convert and a guard of the Imperial palace. Brothers they remain, though standing to either side of an unimaginable divide. On a fateful day in late autumn 1490, Skiouros picks the wrong pocket and begins to unravel a plot that reaches to the very highest peaks of Imperial power. He and his brother are about to be left with the most difficult decision faced by a conquered Greek: whether the rule of the Ottoman Sultan is worth saving.
Legionary by Gordon Doherty
The Roman Empire is crumbling, and a shadow looms in the east. 376 AD: the Eastern Roman Empire is alone against the tide of barbarians swelling on her borders. Emperor Valens juggles the paltry border defences to stave off invasion from the Goths north of the Danube. Meanwhile, in Constantinople, a pact between faith and politics spawns a lethal plot that will bring the dark and massive hordes from the east crashing down on these struggling borders. The fates conspire to see Numerius Vitellius Pavo, enslaved as a boy after the death of his legionary father, thrust into the limitanei, the border legions, just before they are sent to recapture the long-lost eastern Kingdom of Bosporus. He is cast into the jaws of this plot, so twisted that the survival of the entire Roman world hangs in the balance.
Table of Contents
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Marius' Mules VI: Caesar's Vow Page 50