Two riders clattered out of the darkness and approached the gates of the Roman camp. Both were ornately dressed in fine armor and plumed helmets. A delegation of attendants and a cavalry escort materialized behind them bearing banners that the guards on the walls quickly identified. The gates were opened and the delegation from the Senate was allowed to pass. Once inside the camp, the torchlight revealed the speckles of dried mud on the cloaks of the riders. The party had travelled far, all the way from Rome, and they had travelled at great hazard to get here. It was not the first time Caesar had received such guests on the threshold of an enemy country. Caesar, always the politician, always the one to treat his political enemies as friends, invited the uninvited guests to dine with him in his tent. They lounged on the proconsul’s field furniture under the dim light of the lanterns.
“How was your crossing of the Alps, gentlemen?” Caesar asked politely, after looking up from a report he had been studying throughout most of dinner. The two senators had welcomed the fine venison Caesar’s table offered.
“Fair,” The gray-haired senator answered. “The early summer rains made the passes cruel – a bit more difficult than I remember them.”
“I am glad you made it safely, Valens,” Caesar smiled pouring the senator more wine.
Senator Valens nodded a thanks. Though Valens’s hair was gray, he was far from being elderly. He appeared in the prime of his life, much like Caesar, and he carried the same cordial, aloof presence about him, inferring that his affections were not as freely given as his gratitude.
“I must admit, Gaius, you have amassed an impressive army.” The other senator, a portly man and quite the opposite of Valens, now chimed in. He ate ravenously, as if he had starved on the ride from Geneva. The plump senator now paused to shove a handful of meat into his mouth. After a loud belch, he continued. “I have never seen this many legions in one spot. Why, even great Pompey didn’t have as many legions when he subjugated the East. How do you manage it, Gaius? How do you maintain order and discipline? And this is such a dismal place. Judging from the wretched maidens we encountered on our journey out here, I imagine the common soldiers must be plum out of their minds for an Italian girl. They must be deserting by the hundred.”
“I have excellent legates, Porcius.” Caesar answered, smiling, and then raised his cup to Valens. “These men are the best in Rome.”
“But they are not all from Rome,” Valens replied. “Most come from the provinces or the colonies.”
“True, Senator Valens,” Caesar said dismissively. “But they are Roman citizens, and they are led by the finest youth of Rome. Your nephew Piso, for instance. With such excellent tribunes, how can we ever meet with misfortune?”
“Yes, indeed.” Valens replied, his tone indicating that he had detected the hint of sarcasm in the remark.
“I am so looking forward to meeting your nephew, Valens,” Porcius said, oblivious to the tension between the other two men. “It’s always so encouraging to see the younger generation taking up the sword, carrying on where we left off. It warms my heart. There is hope for the republic yet. Where did you say young Piso was, Gaius?”
“I believe he is currently commanding a reconnaissance from the Seventh Legion,” Caesar said indifferently, while sifting through the latest correspondence from Rome. “Is that right, Labienus?” He said this to a general sitting nearby, as if to hand off the annoying senator.
Labienus was caught in mid-drink. “Uh, yes, Caesar,” he finally said, after swallowing a mouthful of wine. As Caesar’s deputy, the second-in-command of the army, Labienus was obligated to dine with the proconsul and the guests from Rome, but his mind had been elsewhere. There were a thousand things to do in the days leading up to the army’s movement, and he preferred leaving politics to the politicians. Seeing that Caesar was further distracted by the letters, Labienus addressed the two senators directly. “Tribune Piso’s probe has been recalled. Our couriers found them yesterday, twenty miles from here. They should be returning soon.”
“Am I correct to assume, then,” Valens said, “that you are planning to move the army?”
“Indeed, Senator,” Labienus replied, after darting a glance at Caesar. “The Nervii lands lie before us. They are the most powerful tribe in all Belgica. Defeat them, and the whole region will fall. We are preparing to make our final push in the coming days. If it’s a battle you’re looking for, I would say you have come at a propitious time.”
“Oh, I would love to see our legions in action!” Porcius said with eagerness. “Especially against such an intriguing foe. I must admit, I spent most of my military service in Africa and have never set eyes on one of the ferocious barbarians of the north. Are they really as fierce as your reports say, Gaius?”
Caesar finished reading a line before looking up. “Forgive me, Porcius. What did you say?”
“Your accounts of the barbarians,” Porcius said, a bit miffed at having to repeat himself. “Are they authentic, or are they embellishment to amuse the mob?”
“I hope you may judge for yourself, Porcius,” Caesar answered casually.
At that moment, a young officer stepped into the tent and saluted Caesar.
“Pardon me, Consul. Riders approaching, sir. They display the banner of the Seventh Legion.”
Caesar nodded. The officer then handed him a document before exiting the tent.
“That would be your nephew’s cohorts, Senator,” Labienus said to Valens. “They are the last of the punitive forays we sent into the Nervii country.”
“Punitive?” Porcius started in a surprised tone.
“A reconnaissance in force, nothing more,” Caesar said with a wave of his hand. “They bring good tidings, I am sure.”
Caesar thought there was little sense in mentioning that he had sent the advance cohorts into the Nervii lands to pick a fight. The Belgic tribes fought recklessly, and were even more reckless when on the attack. If a few raids could entice them into confronting him when his army was secure behind their camp fortifications, he would gain the advantage. Certainly he had taken a risk in sending two and three cohorts at a time, but in his mind it was worth the risk. Had one of the expeditionary groups been annihilated, what better rallying cry was there than revenge to inspire the rest of the army to action?
It was all so bloody simple.
“And this tells me,” Caesar said after glancing over the message, “that, in two days’ time, our provision train will be complete. Before the week is out, gentlemen, this army will march. We will move into the land of the Nervii and neutralize the threat they pose to our province.” Caesar raised his cup. “To the Senate and People of Rome, gentlemen!”
Each raised his cup in answer to the toast, Caesar theatrically pouring out a little wine as tribute to Mars before drinking his. After they had settled back in their chairs, the jittery Porcius seemed to have gained some confidence from the effects of the wine.
“If I may, Gaius,” he said carefully. “What of the reports we get in Rome, of women and children being put to the sword? Oh, I know it’s probably all exaggerated nonsense, but we do hear such things, you know. Such rumors have reached the senate floor no less. As much as we applaud your noble deeds here in Gaul and the extension of our influence among these people, there are those who question the legality of such measures. There are Senators back at home who are not your friends, you know, and would love nothing better than to see Gaius Julius Caesar brought back to Rome to face these accusations.”
Caesar knew that he was looking at two such senators now, but he smiled softly and met Porcius’s gaze. “Such atrocities never came by my order.”
That was true, for the most part, but a prolonged throat clearing by Labienus did little to bolster the guests’ confidence.
“And, as to my returning to Rome,” Caesar continued, after darting an inconspicuous glance at his red-faced deputy. “I will certainly do that, once my work here is finished. I have been legally appointed as proconsul of these regions. It i
s my duty to see to it that Rome faces no threat from these marauding tribes. Perhaps some of my colleagues have forgotten our not too distant shame, when Gauls and Germans put our legions under the yoke. I have not forgotten it, nor shall I abandon my duties.”
Porcius made to respond, but Valens interrupted him in an amiable tone. “Forgive us, Gaius. We should not be cross-examining you on the eve of such a momentous campaign. I think I speak for Porcius, and the entire Senate, when I say that our hearts are with you and your legions. We are certain that you keep the casualties as low as is possible, given the circumstances.”
“And might I also extend my thanks to you both, and to your fellow senators for the unfaltering support, both moral and tangible that you provide to this army.”
Both men were lying through their teeth, and both knew it. Valens did not believe anything written in Caesar’s reports, not one word if it, and was scheming for Caesar’s removal. Conversely, Caesar did not feel that Rome ever sent him enough of what he asked for.
But that was the way of Roman politics.
The young officer entered the tent again, and saluted. “One of the riders seeks an audience with you Caesar. It is Divitiacus of the Aeduan.”
“Divitiacus?” Caesar said curiously to no one in particular. “Certainly. Let him come.”
Within moments, the stocky Aeduan chieftain stepped into the tent, bringing with him the aroma of horse manure. His long mail armor and breeches were covered in mud. Even his helmet was mud-splattered from what had obviously been a hard and desperate ride.
“How good to see you again, my friend,” Caesar rose and embraced him.
“It is good to see you, great Caesar.”
“Allow me to introduce my two guests, up from Rome. These are Senators Valens and Porcius – two of our most ardent supporters.”
“My lords,” Divitiacus nodded briefly to the two, but then turned a grim face back to Caesar.
“What is it, old friend?” Caesar asked, seeing that there was something wrong. “Were you with the cohorts from the Seventh? Why is the tribune not here?”
“I am sorry to say, that the tribune is in a bad condition. My men and I brought him here as fast as we could.”
Caesar’s face drew grave. “And the cohorts?”
“They march two hours behind us, under the command of the chief centurion. They are safe. We encountered the Nervii, but suffered only a few casualties.”
“And the Belgic tribes? What of them?”
“They are massing, Caesar. The Nervii, the Viromandui, the Atrebates, and there may be more.”
Caesar considered for a moment, and then turned to his guests. “Gentlemen, I sincerely apologize for bringing our dinner to an abrupt end, but I must confer with Divitiacus for some time. It is very necessary. I am sorry.”
The others rose to leave, but Valens remained. “I would like to hear more about what happened to my nephew, Gaius, if you can spare a few moments of Divitiacus’s time.”
“Of course, Valens, I was not thinking clearly. You must be beside yourself with worry.” Caesar then said to Labienus. “See to it that the tribune Piso is taken to the Senator’s tent, will you? The infirmary is no place for such a noble young man, and I’m sure the Senator will want his own people to care for him.”
Labienus nodded and left. Porcius rose and took his leave as well, leaving only Caesar, Valens, and Divitiacus.
“You are his uncle, sir?” Divitiacus said to Valens with some alarm.
“Yes.”
The Aeduan chieftain nodded curtly. “Then I am sorry to inform you, senator, that your nephew is in a deplorable condition. He suffers great pain, and probably will not outlive the night.”
“Was he wounded in battle?”
“He was mauled by dogs, sir.” Divitiacus hesitated, then added, “I was not there when the engagement started, but it is my understanding that it happened prior to the battle.”
“How? I want to know everything.”
The Aeduan chieftain cut his eyes to Caesar and then back to the Senator.
“It is alright, Divitiacus,” Valens said. “You may speak freely. I trust my friend Gaius will keep this between the three of us.”
Divitiacus cleared his throat and then said, “I was told the young gentlemen, Piso and Amelius, took the two squads off hunting for… carnal pleasures.”
Valens face turned red with either anger or embarrassment, but Caesar perked up, suddenly interested.
“I’m sorry, did you say just two squads, Divitiacus?” Caesar asked.
“Yes.”
“Against how many Nervii?”
“We counted sixty-two of their dead, Caesar.”
“This is just the kind of thing we need!” Caesar slapped his fist into his hand. “Just the kind of thing to raise the spirits of our weary legions.”
“The troop, as a whole, suffered great loss before my men arrived, Caesar. I am not sure that praise is in order –“
“It was a victory, Divitiacus, and our legionaries were involved. That is all anyone need know. I know it goes against the grain of most old warriors like yourself, but you can’t decorate a man for sacking a village, and sadly that’s all our legionaries have done since entering the Belgic lands. Their only real action, if you could call it that, was a little skirmish at the crossing of the Axona, and only the auxiliaries were involved there. No legions were present. Now, we have a victory to inspire the legions for the final chapter of our campaign.” Caesar then seemed to remember that Valens was there, and added sympathetically, “We shall decorate Piso, of course, as the senior officer present. That is only right. Unfortunately, that will do no good for the common soldiers. They will dismiss it as hyped-up favoritism. A pity you didn’t arrive earlier, Divitiacus, that we might have an independent account of the battle and could single out one or two legionaries for distinction – someone the rest could look to as an example, something to stimulate them, to put a bit of zeal in their step.” Caesar sighed. “Perhaps we can decorate the centurions, assuming there were any present. We need to decorate someone.”
As Divitiacus half-listened to Caesar’s rambling, he found himself studying Valens’s face. Upon hearing how his nephew met with his injuries, the senator had assumed a distant look, not so much one of concern as one of calculation – as if he were considering his next move in a game of latrunculi. Divitiacus had a hunch, and he thought he might play the game to see where it took him.
“Begging your pardon, Caesar,” Divitiacus said, “but there is something else I would like to report.”
“Of course, my friend. What is it?”
“There was a legionary in the skirmish, a certain Lucius Domitius,” Divitiacus glanced at Valens and saw the expected response in the Senator’s eyes.
“Go on,” Caesar said, already distracted by another report. “What of Lucius, uh, Lucius…I’m sorry, what did you say his name was?”
“Lucius Domitius, Caesar.”
“What of Lucius Domitius?”
“He performed valiantly, Caesar. If you’re looking for a man to set apart, he might be just the one. I have been in many battles, and faced many warriors, and I have never seen the likes of him. Just before my men and I rode into the fray, I saw the centurion of the troop, surrounded and besought by Nervii spearmen. I thought for sure it was all over for him. Then, lo and behold, Lucius Domitius appears out of nowhere, sword swinging and jabbing faster than the eye could follow. He hacks his way through the spearmen, gutting one after another, until he’s back to back with the centurion, fighting the rest of them off. Must have killed a dozen with his own sword, if I had to guess. I’ve never seen the like.”
Caesar looked up from the paper, “Now, that is appealing, indeed! Did this really happen, Divitiacus, just as you say it did?”
“I would swear to it, Caesar, as would any of my men. We all saw it.”
”And this Lucius…Lucius…”
“Lucius Domitius,” Divitiacus corrected.
“- this Lucius Domitius,” Caesar continued with an appreciative nod, “might be the one to serve my purpose. Did he survive? Was he wounded?”
“Not that I could tell,” again, a look at Valens, who seemed to be intently listening.
Caesar laughed. “Then he will be the one. Let the legions hear of his gallantry, and of his reward, and they will all wish to emulate him. Just the thing we need before setting off into the Nervii lands.” Caesar then cast an apologetic look at Valens. “Forgive me for having such thoughts just now, Valens, in light of your nephew’s condition, but this really is the kind of thing we have been waiting for. You understand, I must be a general first.”
“Rome expects nothing less, Gaius,” Valens replied.
Divitiacus could see that this last was said through gritted teeth, but Caesar seemed oblivious to it.
“If you will excuse me, Caesar,” Valens said cordially. “I must see to my nephew.”
Valens then left the tent, but not without casting a glance in Divitiacus’s direction. Perhaps the senator was wise enough to detect his little scheme. But, no matter. His hunch was confirmed. Whatever the nature of this plot against Lucius, the senator was involved, and the nephew, more than likely was only acting at the behest of his uncle.
“Will you march with us, Divitiacus?” Caesar offered him a cup of wine and a chair, and he accepted both gratefully.
“I am afraid my men are getting anxious, Caesar. They long for their wives, and worry about their fields. They have been marching with you since the spring thaws. They have helped you subdue much of the Belgic lands.”
“And no one could ask any more of them, my friend – or of you.”
“I speak for them, Caesar, not for myself. I ask you to release them, that they may carry their plunder home and tend to their farms.”
“It will be regrettable to see them go, but I cannot hold them here. You and your men are free to go, Divitiacus. Besides, I believe the Treveri have provided us with sufficient horse for the coming campaign. We should be safe in their hands.”
Divitiacus took a sip of wine, and then eyed the proconsul. “I would advise you to be careful, my friend.”
Rome: Fury of the Legion (Sword of the Legion Series) Page 8