Marius' Mules Anthology Volume 1

by S. J. A. Turney

  ‘You’re a capsarius?’

  ‘Yes sir.’

  ‘Take my horse. Get him back to the camp immediately.’

  He turned to face the centurion.

  ‘Velius, you go with him. Get him back and tended. The rest of us are going to check around and see if we can find out what happened.’

  Velius nodded and, helping the capsarius manhandle Fronto onto the legate’s horse, he turned to face Balbus as he began to mount.

  ‘Be very careful sir. This was organised well in advance, and I wouldn’t be at all surprised if they hadn’t moved their camp closer to us. You could wander into it without even realising in these hills.’

  Balbus smiled.

  ‘I know what I’m doing, Velius. I’m no green recruit. Just take care of Fronto.’

  He turned and walked off down the defile, followed by the cavalry leading their horses, as Velius and the capsarius led Fronto back toward the legions.

  Chapter 18

  (In camp between Vesontio and the Rhine)

  ‘Fossa: Defensive ditches, such as those constructed round a Roman camp or fort.’

  Fronto reached gingerly to the back of his head and prodded the wound. Shining shards of glass exploded in his brain, and he almost blacked out. Leaning forward with his hands on his knees, he vomited copiously on the tent floor before Florus could get to him with the bowl. The young capsarius had insisted on dealing with the legate personally.

  ‘With all due respect, sir, if you keep prodding it, you’re going to pull your brain out soon!’

  Velius frowned at the young man.

  ‘What is it with you medical types? You were a nice quiet lad when you were a legionary. Now you’re a capsarius, you’d talk down to a bloody God!’

  Florus turned to the centurion.

  ‘Why are you here again, sir?’

  Velius harrumphed but fell quiet. One of the senior medici had already ejected him from the tent twice. The sound of voices outside came to his attention and moments later the tent flap was hauled back and Balbus, Caesar and Longinus entered.

  ‘Fronto, you look terrible.’

  Velius grinned.

  ‘He just tried to stir his brain with his finger, sir.’

  Longinus smiled.

  ‘I brought you some wine, but I think I should keep it for a day or two until you’re a bit better.’

  Caesar looked down at the capsarius as he finished cleaning up and rose.

  ‘How is he? Is he going to be fit for active duty soon or is he out of action now until next season?’

  Florus looked up at Caesar. Gone was his wide-eyed deferential shyness. This Florus was far removed from the young man on the hill before the battle with the Helvetii. Months of dealing with horrifying wounds, up to his elbows in blood and guts had hardened him. He regarded Caesar with a very professional look.

  ‘It appears worse than it is sir. In a couple of days he’ll think he’s invincible again. The actual physical damage is remarkably light. He’ll have a slight limp with the wound on his leg, but it should barely slow him down. The blow to the head created a hairline fracture, but doesn’t appear to have done too much. The bone’s thicker there for some reason, and it seems to have helped protect him.’

  Velius grimaced. He remembered the day Fronto had found the body of Cominius and the blow he had received when he slipped on the blood. He looked up as Florus was still talking.

  ‘Now he’s mostly suffering from a concussion. It’ll be at least a day before he starts making real sense.’

  Longinus laughed.

  ‘My dear medicus, you don’t know Fronto. It’ll be a miracle if he does make sense; he’s never done it before!’

  Caesar smiled down at the wounded legate, who was gazing in a confused way at his own knees. He had started to drool a little.

  ‘Well I was thinking I’d best update Fronto with what we know, but I’d obviously better leave that until later.’

  Velius stood and approached Caesar.

  ‘Sir, with Fronto out of it, the primus pilus will be in control of the Tenth again, and I’d best report anything to him.’

  Balbus nodded his agreement.

  ‘Best keep Priscus informed, general.’

  Caesar sighed wearily.

  ‘Balbus found the camp not a quarter hour from the ambush site. They were nine miles from here then. Subsequent scouts have recorded it as little more than five miles away now. If you look hard, you can see the smoke from their fires. They’re at the foot of a hill and I cannot fathom the man’s intentions. If he were going to attack, he could have been on us long before now. They must be playing for time, waiting for reinforcements or some such. Anyhow, it seems that Mettius and Procillus were alive yesterday at least. They were spotted chained up near the camp’s centre.’

  Velius interrupted the general in full flow.

  ‘Permission to put together a rescue party?’

  Caesar frowned at him.

  ‘Interrupting me is a good way to find yourself in trouble, centurion. No, you may not have permission. I’m not wasting valuable men on a foolhardy mission into the middle of the German army. I realise that it was your escort duty and you probably dislike having lost them to the enemy, but the field of battle is the place for retribution. The two of them know that and they won’t expect a rescue attempt.’

  Fronto looked up at the general, his eyes swimming.

  ‘M’alright. Rescue.’

  Longinus crouched down by the legate and whispered to him.

  ‘Can I have all your money?’

  Fronto nodded and smiled.

  ‘Money for Longinus.’

  Balbus grinned and gripped Longinus’ shoulder.

  ‘Gaius, it’s not nice to mock the afflicted. Come on, let’s go and make the most of your wine. You don’t mind if we drink the wine for you, do you Fronto?’

  Fronto smiled happily at Balbus, his head wobbling a little.

  ‘I’ll take that as a no.’

  He turned to Caesar, Velius and Florus.

  ‘Who’d like to join us?’

  Caesar shook his head.

  ‘I’m afraid I have far too much to do, but thank you for the offer, gentlemen. I need you to stay relatively compos mentis, however. Depending on what Ariovistus does in the next few hours, we need to be ready. I assume both your commands are standing to, along with the other legions?’

  Balbus nodded.

  ‘The entire army’s on a war footing sir. We can be ready to move into battle at a quarter of an hour’s notice.’

  ‘Good. I want a meeting in my headquarters at dusk, regardless. You had best find Priscus and tell him. I’ll send word to the other legates.’

  Balbus turned to Florus and Velius.

  ‘You two coming?’

  Florus looked up and shook his head.

  ‘Love to sir, but I’m not leaving the legate at the moment. Perhaps later when he falls asleep.’

  Velius’ face split with a wide grin.

  ‘Why not? I think I have some wine myself somewhere. Where are we going?’

  Balbus and Longinus looked at each other and Balbus turned back to him.

  ‘Longinus and you are supplying the wine, so I’ll supply the tent. My quarters in a quarter of an hour. Just give me time to put away the maps and the kit and requisition some more chairs from the quartermaster.’

  As Balbus jogged off at a speed that impressed the others, considering the legate’s advanced years, Longinus turned and grinned at Velius.

  ‘Well I’ve got nothing to do for quarter of an hour. Shall we go back in and torment Marcus for a while?’

  ‘Tempting, but I’ve got to go via our billets and warn the primus pilus about Caesar’s meeting later. He never said whether he wanted me at the meeting. D’you think he does?’

  Longinus smiled.

  ‘No idea. I suggest you go anyway and then if he doesn’t want you, you can always leave again. Better to be present when unexpected that absent when
expected, yes?’

  ‘Aye.’

  The two of them crossed into the area of the camp set aside for the Tenth, and a number of the men saluted and greeted the two as they made their way to the praetorium. Priscus stood on a patch of bare earth with three of the Tenth’s centurions and optios. As the men watched, the primus pilus drew a tactical plan of battle lines in the dirt and motioned where the individual cohorts and centuries would move with his vine staff. The two officers could not hear what he was saying as they approached, but he lashed out with the staff and caught one of the men a ringing blow below the ear before pointing back to the earth. Longinus raised an eyebrow and looked at Velius.

  ‘That’s Arius, our most junior optio. I don’t think Priscus likes him much; thinks he’s thick. He might just be right.’

  Longinus frowned.

  ‘He’s going to be thick if he keeps getting clouted round the ears. I might have to have a quiet word with your primus pilus sometime soon. Or maybe with Fronto.’

  Velius shook his head.

  ‘I wouldn’t worry over much about it, sir. Priscus knows what he’s doing. Young optios get hit on occasions. It’s part of the training and promotion process. When I started out in the Tenth the primus pilus was an evil old bastard who treated me like something he trod in. In fact, he did tread in me occasionally. Tremendous old sod, though. It breeds tough men.’

  Longinus smiled at the grizzled centurion. It occurred to him that everyone who met Velius seemed to complain about him vehemently for a while and then began to appreciate the man. If he’d had that kind of officer in the Ninth, he might have been tempted to make a go of his legionary command. Still, he was happy with command of the horse. He reined himself in from his wandering thoughts as the two of them reached the primus pilus.

  Priscus turned and saluted at Longinus.

  ‘Morning sir. Touring the camp?’

  ‘Just dropping by with a message, Priscus. Caesar’s called a meeting at dusk and you’re going to have to attend.’

  Priscus frowned and shifted to Velius.

  ‘Why, how’s the legate?’

  Velius grinned.

  ‘Confused. And very prone to suggestion. If you want anything at the moment, I’d go and get him to sign it over. He’d probably sign away his year’s pay if you asked him.’

  Priscus laughed.

  ‘I could do with a few things. Might go and see him in a bit. Still, I guess that means that I’m in sole command for now. Seems to be happening quite a lot at the moment. Where are you two off to then?’

  Longinus waved the jug of wine.

  ‘Going to Balbus’ tent to test the quality of this. Coming?’

  Priscus wavered for a moment, then shook his head.

  ‘Can’t really, sir. Too much to do without Fronto here.’

  Velius winced.

  ‘Need me here?’

  ‘No, I’ll manage. Just don’t get plastered. I’ll certainly need you later.’

  Velius nodded as they turned and made their way toward the area allocated to the Eighth. Balbus’ tent would be in the praetorium. As they approached the periphery, the guards assigned to patrol the edge moved forward to challenge them. The pila were levelled and then one of them said something to the other, and they were lifted again.

  ‘Pass, friends.’

  Longinus cocked an eyebrow at Velius.

  ‘What do you suppose that was about?’

  The centurion grinned.

  ‘I’ve noticed that a lot of the Eighth’s officers avoid eye contact with me. I think I might have frightened them a little when we defended the wall at Geneva.’

  A voice behind them pulled them up short.

  ‘Longinus!’

  They turned to see Crassus marching at high speed toward the Eighth’s camp. As he approached the perimeter, the guards stepped forward and levelled their weapons.

  ‘Halt! Who goes there?’

  ‘Get out of my way you idiots unless you want to be beaten to death.’

  The two men dithered for a moment and, Longinus noticed, both looked at Velius who gave a barely perceptible nod.

  ‘Pass, friend.’

  The pila were put back up.

  Crassus walked straight up to Longinus, apparently ignoring Velius altogether.

  ‘Longinus, I want to talk about the cavalry.’

  Longinus glanced sidelong at Velius and then sighed.

  ‘What about the cavalry.’

  ‘I’ve been thinking about it and I think you need to reorganise.’

  ‘What?’

  Crassus grounded his staff and leaned forward on it, emphasising his words with a waving finger.

  ‘You’re going to be up against around six thousand cavalry when we meet the Germans. I know they’re only barbarians, but that’s far more than we’ve ever fought in one group.’

  Longinus growled.

  ‘I’m aware of the odds, Crassus.’

  ‘Are you also aware of the danger of having your auxiliary cavalry so separate from the regulars?’

  ‘Crassus, I’m tired and I’m bored and you’re annoying me. Get to the point.’

  Crassus’ face was slowly gaining in colour.

  ‘Nearly all of your auxiliary alae are controlled by Gauls. They’ve got more in common with the Germans than with us. What makes you think they won’t just turn round and join Ariovistus? You should split your regulars among the auxilia to keep them in line. Use your prefects and decurions to lead them.’

  Longinus sighed again.

  ‘Crassus, the auxilia fight much better under their own leaders than under ours. They feel more loyalty and the Gauls understand their troops’ fighting techniques better. And they hate the Germans probably more than we do. You may be a big man in Rome, and you may even be a competent legionary commander, but you’re not a horseman, and you don’t understand the cavalry. Kindly stop sticking your nose in where it’s not wanted and go put it back up the general’s backside, where you habitually keep it.’

  As Crassus’ mouth opened and closed, trying to find words through his rage, Longinus turned his back on the man and walked off. Velius trotted to catch up and, once they were out of earshot, turned to Longinus, grinning.

  ‘I’m fair impressed. It’s not often a man comes out with a more outrageous line than me, but I like that. Don’t you think he’s a dangerous man to cross, though?’

  Longinus shook his head.

  ‘The man’s an arsehole and he wants my job, you mark my words. I’ll talk to Caesar later. I’m not having that man running any of my cavalry. Let’s go find Balbus. I really need that drink now.’

  * * * * *

  The morning dawned bright and pale, a heavy dew still resting on the grass and the leather tents. The legions were now on permanent standby. Five days ago, Ariovistus had marched his army in a wide arc past the Roman camp and settled on the other side, effectively blocking the supply route to the Sequani and the Aedui. For the last five days, Caesar had brought the entire army out in force onto the field between the two camps. The men were marshalled and ready for battle; even eager. The last four days the army had waited, taunting the Germans, trying everything they could to draw Ariovistus out of his camp and onto a field of battle, but the German leader had not yet moved from his camp.

  At the rear of the lines of men, Fronto sat on horseback next to Caesar and Longinus. His head was sore, but he was in full command of his faculties again.

  ‘Can we not just go in and take him in the camp sir?’

  Caesar shook his head.

  ‘We can’t take them effectively in their own camp, and I won’t risk the casualties we’d receive doing it that way. We need to draw them into the field.’

  Fronto sighed.

  ‘They won’t be drawn. We’ve done this for days. I reckon we’ve got maybe a week left before the supply situation becomes dangerous, then we’ll have to take them in their camp. Supply wagons aren’t even trying to get to us now.’

  Longi
nus tapped his temple and smiled. Leaning forward in his saddle, he gestured to Fronto and Caesar.

  ‘I think I might be able to draw the cavalry out. They’re not coming out as long as the legions are here. We’ve established several times now to what lengths Ariovistus is willing to go to avoid an engagement with the legions. If you pull the legions back to camp I might be able to get the German cavalry to commit.’

  Caesar looked unsure.

  ‘There are supposedly six thousand of them, and they’ll almost certainly bring some infantry support out with them. How many horse have we got?’

  ‘Some nine or ten thousand at the moment. To be honest, I haven’t had a chance to take an accurate census since we left Bibracte. Extra units were still drifting in from various tribes when we left Vesontio.’

  A frown.

  ‘Do you think it’s wise, Longinus? You outnumber them, but not if they bring out enough support. Are you willing to take the risk? I don’t want to find myself in a few days fighting the entire German army with no cavalry support.’

  Longinus smiled.

  ‘Fronto?’

  ‘Mm?’

  ‘How long d’you think it would take to get two legions out of the camp and to our current position?’

  ‘If we were prepared, quarter of an hour at the most.’

  ‘Right. If we need any kind of cover, we’ll sound the retreat and start to pull back toward the camp. You can come out from behind us and give us the support we need to escape the field, yes?’

  Fronto nodded.

  ‘Fine by me. Balbus and I’ll have our men on standby. One sound from that horn and we’ll be out to protect you.’

  Longinus looked at Caesar and shrugged.

  ‘Well sir?’

  ‘I still don’t like it, but if you think it will gain us in any way, do as you see fit.’

  Longinus grinned and rode off to the cavalry, massed at one end of the Roman lines. Fronto nodded at Caesar and then approached the staff cornicen.

  ‘Sound the recall. Get everyone back to camp.’

  As the cornicen began to play, Fronto rode along the lines looking for Priscus and Balbus. Spotting them relatively close together, where the Tenth stood alongside the Eighth in the line, he called out to them.