Marius' Mules Anthology Volume 1

by S. J. A. Turney

  He turned and looked back down at the Tenth. They had formed lines with their shields facing the Germans and were readying their pila. Wheeling his horse, he charged down the hill toward the column.

  ‘No! No one shoot back. This is a conference and a truce. Let them break it, but not us!’

  He called out to a nearby centurion.

  ‘Keep the line tight and slowly retreat from the field, keeping the shields to the Germans.’

  The centurion nodded and began to relay the order down the line, while Fronto turned to climb the hill again. As he turned he saw the other officers descending at a steady pace. He fell in beside Caesar.

  ‘I’ve had the Tenth fall out slowly without engaging the enemy, sir.’

  Caesar smiled.

  ‘Quick thinking Fronto. Now we are in the right and he’s broken a truce. I think that will put the Gods on our side, don’t you?’

  Fronto nodded.

  ‘It’ll put our army in a real bloodthirsty mood, too. Not just the Tenth, but the other legions once they get to hear of it. I can’t help but wonder how you arranged this?’

  Caesar’s irritating knowing smile crossed his face again.

  ‘How I arranged what, Marcus? Events just sometimes have a fortunate way of turning out in my favour.’

  Harrumph.

  As Caesar laughed, Fronto dropped back to where Balbus and Longinus rode side by side.

  ‘Alright. Which of you knows what happened there and is going to explain it to me?’

  Balbus shrugged, and Longinus narrowed his eyes.

  ‘What makes you think either of us was involved in this?’

  Fronto growled.

  ‘One of you has to have helped Caesar do this. He’s devious enough to do it, but it has the hallmarks of a Longinus plot. Bear in mind that it was my legion that just got pelted with stones. There may have been fatalities; there were certainly casualties. Unless you want me to go round inflicting those injuries on your men to even up the score, tell me what happened.’

  Longinus looked at Balbus and then sighed.

  ‘Fine. It was my idea. Caesar wanted something that would incense the army. It really had to be the Tenth. I’m afraid that you’ve made them the most high-profile of all the legions, Marcus. If it’s any consolation, Caesar wanted us to use German spears, but I managed to barter him down to rocks. That way we could keep the casualties to a minimum. I know you’re angry, but you’ll accept it later.’

  Fronto cleared his throat in annoyance. It was true that no real damage had been done. For all his comments, he could not believe there had been bad casualties and he had not seen anyone left for dead. Longinus had only done what Fronto might have come up with had he been involved. The only thing that annoyed him was that it was the Tenth.

  ‘I need a drink!’

  Longinus smiled at him.

  ‘I happen to have a small stock that I brought from Vesontio. It’s not fantastic, but it’s quite an acceptable taste. Care to join me when we get back?’

  Fronto nodded and the first hint of a smile played across his lips.

  ‘So how did you get the Germans to throw stones at my men?’

  Longinus grinned.

  ‘Auxiliary cavalry, Marcus. I sent them to infiltrate three days ago. They were in among the men when Ariovistus brought them to the meeting. They managed to manoeuvre not only themselves but even some of the real Germans into shouting angrily at the Tenth and then hurling rocks at them. When Ariovistus leaves the field, he won’t have a clue who it was who started it, but he will feel like a truce-breaking idiot. And he will know that he’s given Caesar an excuse to destroy him now. Our auxiliaries will wait until the camp is quiet tonight and then slip back out and return to their units.’

  ‘Oh you are a clever little bastard, Longinus. I’m glad you’re on our side.’

  ‘Are you really? It doesn’t seem like so long ago when you said you wished I’d fall down a really big hole!’

  Fronto laughed.

  ‘What makes you think I don’t wish stuff like that now?’

  Balbus coughed.

  ‘When you’ve finished, I think we need to go and see our legions. News is going to spread like wild fire now, and we want to make sure it channels into controlled aggression aimed at the Germans, and not into stupid outbursts. We don’t really want a riot at the moment.’

  The others nodded and began to pick up pace.

  A short while later, Fronto entered the gate of the camp and made his way to the praetorium. The Tenth rode in behind him, some a little battered and bleeding, but no one seriously hurt. They were the last of the party to arrive. Caesar had made sure that Fronto rode his legion in full view of the rest of the army before they could settle into camp.

  Fronto dismounted in front of the valetudinarium, a joint temporary hospital for the use of all six legions and manned by staff from them all. He saw two capsarii lowering a man onto a stretcher just outside.

  ‘Capsarius!’

  The nearest turned and looked up. He smiled.

  ‘Legate Fronto.’

  Fronto blinked.

  ‘Florus. How’s the medical life treating you?’

  ‘Very well sir. I’m now officially a capsarius. No more trench digging for me, sir. What can I do for you?’

  Fronto gestured at the dusty troops behind him.

  ‘Just cuts and bruises really. Lot of them though. I’ll come and chat while they work if you’ve got the time.’

  * * * * *

  Gaius Valerius Procillus sat in a campaign chair and sighed contentedly. He reached him arm to the left and waggled the goblet. With audible grumbles, Velius reached down for the jar of wine and the jug of water and refilled the staff officer’s drink. Procillus smiled down into the red liquid and shook his head as if in a daze.

  ‘And what did you do then?’

  Fronto grimaced.

  ‘I suppose I just shut up. Velius definitely knew what he was doing and I think I was really in far over my head. If you know Velius, you’ll know that if he’s right it doesn’t do to argue.’

  Procillus frowned and glanced sideways at Velius.

  ‘I’d not met him before.’ He gestured at Velius. ‘You honestly talk like that to a senior officer.’

  Fronto smiled as Velius growled gently.

  ‘Only when I deserve it.’

  Balbus cleared his throat.

  ‘I used to worry about Velius’ attitude but I think now that it’s people like him that are the main reason the army works. He’s quite reasonable when you get to know him.’

  Procillus shrugged.

  ‘I try not to judge anyone on a first impression. That’s just stupid. After all, if I did that I’d never have invited Mettius to a drink. Look at him. Looks like he fell off an aqueduct and landed on his face.’

  Marcus Mettius grunted.

  ‘At least I’m not effeminate.’

  Balbus spluttered over his drink.

  ‘Effeminate?’

  Mettius grinned.

  ‘He once got dragged off the street into a house and nearly got a nasty surprise on the Aventine.’

  Fronto smiled at the two. He had not met them before, though he had seen them a few times at staff meetings. They seemed to be quite reasonable for high-class Senatorial officers. Fronto leaned forward in his chair.

  ‘So you two are to be Caesar’s spies then?’

  Procillus put his finger to his chin.

  ‘Spy is an ugly word, Marcus. We’re information gatherers, scouts, observers and, at times, diplomats.’

  Fronto smiled.

  ‘Perhaps. Caesar seems to think that the two men camped on the other side of the stream are German ambassadors, and I tend to agree. He thinks that Ariovistus sent them to apologise and set up a new meeting. I don’t think Ariovistus cares enough to apologise. To my mind, the only reason those two haven’t crossed the dip and come to see us is because they’re worried about whether they’ll be murdered by the soldiers as soo
n as they do.’

  Balbus nodded sagely.

  ‘They’re right, too. The Eighth are ready to tear the Germans limb from limb. I can only imagine how your boys feel, Marcus. I don’t know why Caesar wanted the five of us here, but I think we’ll all be summoned any time now to go see them. If I were the general, I’d send them back with no communications, but he doesn’t think like that. I think you two are going with them.’

  Procillus and Mettius glanced at each other and then at their companions.

  ‘Look. We’re going as ambassadors. We can observe and scout while we’re there, but we’re just ambassadors. I can speak three or four different dialects of Gaulish and German, and Mettius has stayed with Ariovistus years ago when we were first in contact with him.’

  Fronto nodded, smiling.

  ‘I thought I hadn’t seen the two of you much during the campaign so far. You were pointed out to me yesterday and I didn’t even know you. So have you been creeping around among the enemy all this time, or have you just been being nondescript and hiding among the staff waiting until you were needed?’

  Procillus’ face took on a serious slant for a moment.

  ‘Marcus, be very careful. I know you’re only joking, but what we do is very serious, very useful and very, very above board. We’re ambassadors, remember? Nothing more and nothing less.’

  Fronto nodded.

  ‘I didn’t mean to wind you up. I’m just intrigued. I’d expected Labienus or Brutus or maybe even Sabinus to do it if there were any more talking.’

  Mettius opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by the general’s voice from outside.

  ‘Gentlemen.’

  As the five of them filed out of the tent, Caesar, astride his white charger and wearing his scarlet cloak, smiled at them.

  ‘Let’s go and make life uncomfortable for Ariovistus.’

  The six officers made their way down across the stream and up the other bank to where the two German riders sat patiently waiting. Caesar dismounted and stood among his officers.

  ‘Speak.’

  Ariovistus’ men shared a private look and then one of them cleared his throat.

  ‘King Ariovistus want new meeting. Want Roman general to come.’

  He sat back in his saddle and made a gesture indicating that he had finished. Caesar shook his head, a stern look on his face.

  ‘After the last conference and the German treachery of breaking a truce I am disinclined to meet with him again except on the field of battle.’

  The German looked puzzled.

  ‘King want Roman general to come.’

  Caesar sighed.

  ‘I am willing to send ambassadors to speak to your King and to make one last attempt to resolve this peacefully.’

  Fronto smiled inwardly. There was no hope and indeed no desire to resolve this peacefully. Caesar had always wanted war, and all visible attempts at diplomacy had been just one ruse after another to buy time or to boost morale. He wondered what the general’s ulterior motive was this time. Something that revolved around his two ‘scouts’. Caesar indicated the two with a sweeping gesture of his arm.

  ‘I will send two of my staff. Gaius Valerius Procillus speaks your language, and Marcus Mettius was once a guest of your King beyond the Rhine. They may speak for me. If there is a way to end this peacefully and acceptably, they will achieve it. I need to discuss a few matters here, but they will set off shortly. Please be good enough to go and inform your King of their imminent arrival.’

  The Germans nodded and, wheeling their horses, galloped off to the north east. Caesar turned to face the officers.

  ‘We need to give them a little bit of a head start. Mettius? Procillus? You know what you have to do. Fronto, Balbus and Velius, you are going follow them with an honour guard of cavalry. I don’t want to provoke an incident yet and I don’t want a skirmish, so I’m only sending twenty men with you. See them safely to the German camp and then leave them alone.’

  Fronto frowned at Caesar.

  ‘Shouldn’t Longinus and his men be doing this?’

  The general smiled.

  ‘I’ve got other tasks for Longinus right now, and the Tenth will make a good honour guard. They were the reason the last conference collapsed, and the Germans have to be aware of that. By all rights they should expect you to go a little mad and kill a few of them. Your presence should discomfit them, and I like that.’

  Balbus frowned now.

  ‘Why me, Caesar? I’ve nothing to do with the Tenth.’

  ‘But you are a level-headed tactical officer and that’s an attribute that, for all his ability, Fronto sometimes lacks. Go with Fronto and Velius to the camp of the Tenth and pick twenty cavalry who look glorious and have exemplary records. As soon as you’re ready, pick up Procillus and Mettius from the praetorium and get going. Any questions now?’

  Fronto and Balbus looked at each other and grumbled, but there was no point in arguing with the general when his mind was made up.

  As they wandered off toward the Tenth, Balbus shrugged.

  ‘Pointless.’

  Fronto gritted and ground his teeth.

  ‘Not just pointless, but dangerous too. Two senior commanders and a high-ranking centurion just to baby sit ambassadors on the road? It’s asking for trouble.’

  Balbus shook his head.

  ‘Not trouble. You heard what he said. There’s to be no skirmishing or trouble. We’re just an honour guard.’

  As they crossed the rampart, Fronto shouted to the primus pilus.

  ‘Priscus, get twenty clean and neat men on horseback as soon as you can and send them to the praetorium.’

  Priscus raised an eyebrow.

  ‘Just do it.’

  A glimpse at the look on Fronto’s face brooked no further argument. Priscus nodded and dashed off into the camp.

  A short while later, as they stood in the praetorium with Mettius and Procillus, the Tenth Legion cavalry escort arrived, leading their horses. Priscus had done well. Fronto recognised a number of them and knew their courage, but they were also smart, right down to the crests on their helmets.

  Fronto, Balbus and Velius hauled themselves up on to their mounts and joined the already seated Procillus and Mettius.

  ‘Let’s go.’

  The column left at a gentle walk through the north gate of the camp, Velius shouting commands at the men, Fronto muttering and the two ambassadors whistling a catchy and happy tune.

  It was early afternoon in a defile between two ridges when Fronto felt the hairs stand on the back of his neck. He pulled his horse forward to fall in line beside Balbus.

  ‘Quintus?’

  ‘Hmm?’ Balbus turned his head lazily, a happy smile gracing his lined face.

  ‘How far do you think we are from the German camp yet?’

  Balbus shrugged.

  ‘According to the last reports, it should be about seven miles away I should think.’

  Fronto lowered his voice.

  ‘If that’s the case, their pickets are a long way out aren’t they?’

  As Balbus raised an eyebrow, Fronto leaned slightly closer.

  ‘I’ve seen men moving in a dozen places while we’ve been speaking. I have a bad feeling about this.’

  Balbus glanced ahead to where Procillus and Mettius rode side by side chatting, and whispered back.

  ‘We need to pull the ambassadors back then, into the protection of the cavalry.’

  Fronto nodded.

  ‘Damn that Caesar. We’re not allowed to fight them. I’ll move slowly and casually ahead and get the others back with us.’

  Balbus nodded and slowed his pace slightly, allowing Velius and the guard to catch up with him.

  ‘Velius? There’s men around us.’

  Velius nodded with the slightest movement.

  ‘I’ve been watching them for a while. There’s got to be at least a hundred of them. Germans. What do we do, sir?’

  ‘Fronto’s gone ahead to get the ambassadors
. I think you need to pull the column into a four-by-five formation. Two lines is too flimsy if we’re attacked. Once they’re back, we’ll get them in the middle of the column and move on. If we meet too much resistance, we’ll turn round.’

  A shout from ahead caught their attention, and they glanced up to see Fronto and the two ambassadors unhorsed. Balbus turned and cried to the troops.

  ‘To arms, four columns and…’

  His sentence uncompleted, the legate was hurled from his horse as it reared. Men on either side of the defile had hauled on ropes, and the lines had tightened and rose, sometimes under the horses’ bellies, sometimes across their chests. As Balbus rolled painfully and came up to his feet, he realised that the whole column was in turmoil, horses rearing and wheeling, some riders unhorsed, others clinging on for dear life. He looked around quickly until he saw Velius, also climbing to his feet.

  ‘Centurion! Help me cut these ropes.’

  Velius staggered round for a moment, dazed, before drawing his blade and laying into the ropes that had halted the column. Near him, Balbus sawed at ropes. Gradually the cavalry untangled themselves and remounted. Fortunately, the Germans seemed to be interested only in stopping the unit, and not a single warrior entered the defile.

  Balbus reared up suddenly and turned to look ahead. There was no sign of Mettius or Procillus, and the figure of Fronto lay in a heap in the middle of the path. Balbus started to run. Moments later Velius overtook him and the thundering of hooves announced the cavalry.

  Balbus was still second to reach Fronto, though Velius was already crouched over him.

  ‘He’s alive, but there’s a lot of blood.’

  One of the cavalry dismounted and rushed over.

  ‘He’s quite stable, but we need to get him back as soon as possible. He’s had a nasty gash to his leg, probably tipped him out of his saddle and there’s a fairly nasty wound on his skull from where he landed.’

  Balbus squinted at the man in the bright sunlight.