The Swabian Affair

by Ray Gleason

  Interesing use of the word “our,” I noted. I don’t remember the Aedui siding with the Romans in that war.

  Duuhruhda went for the close. “So my question, oh, Great Caesar, is this: Does the Roman nation want to face this German threat while it is in its infancy or wait until it grows into a hideous beast? Do you wish to destroy Ariovistus on the banks of the Rhenus, or do you want to take your chances on the banks of the Rhonus? This is what I ask, oh, Caesar! This is the favor for which I beg. Smother this threat to Gaul and to Rome in its cradle. March against Ariovistus now!”

  Caesar, of course, did not immediately respond. He was waiting for Duuhruhda’s heroic monologue to sink in with the Romans he had gathered as an audience. For a few heartbeats, he stared at the ground before him, seemingly pensive. Finally, he lifted his head and responded.

  “I hear your words, Diviciacus, amicus sociusque, friend and ally. Rome is not in the habit of abandoning her friends. Rome hears the cries of her allies. But, this army is exhausted. We have just completed a monumental struggle against a powerful foe, the Helvetii. The smoke of our funeral pyres still darkens the battlefield where many brave Romans fell defending the land of the Aedui. I must discuss this matter with my officers. I will give you my answer before the sun sets.”

  Duuhruhda bowed and said, “I can ask no more of the Great Caesar and the Roman nation.” His final lines delivered, he turned and exited the stage, herding the two reluctant Sequani bit players off with him.

  As they left, Caesar caught my eye and nodded toward the exit through which the Gauls had just passed. I whispered to Athauhnu, “Dilunooch fi! Come with me!”

  The Sequani had wasted no time separating themselves from Duuhruhda as soon as they left Caesar’s presence. As we approached, they looked at us defensively. To them, we were two Romans.

  Athauhnu broke the ice. “A uhw’n wir uhr hun a thuhwedoth uh mochyn o Aineduai? Is what that Aeduan pig says true?”

  Recognizing the accents of the Soucanai, the men relaxed a bit. “I see a Roman, but I hear a Soucana,” the one on the right challenged.

  “I am Athauhnu mab Hergest, a leader of a hundred in the Caisar’s cavalry. This is Arth mab Secundus of the Insubres beyond the great mountains.”

  “Arth mab Secundus?” the Sequani challenged. “Are you a Ga’hel or a Roman?”

  “I am a man and a warrior,” I told him.

  He smiled, “A good answer! I am being rude. I am Aneirin mab Berwuhn, a leader of a hundred for the Cadeuhrn of Vesantio. My companion is Dai mab Gluhn, a leader of ten in my troop.”

  “The Battle Lord of Vesantio,” Athauhnu translated. “How do things stand with our people along the black river? Is what that Aineduai pig says true?”

  “We hold Vesantio,” Aneirin shrugged. “The Almaenwuhr and Belgai in the valley of the Rhine grow stronger, but we still hold uh porth, ‘the Gate’ between the mountains.”

  “There are Belgai with the Almaenwuhr?” I asked.

  “Shuh,” Aneirin affirmed. “Yes! And Aineduai horsemen . . . and Rhufeiniaid.”

  “Rhufeiniaid!” I said. “Romans!”

  “Shuh,” Aneirin nodded. “They claim they are merchants. They must pass through the valley of the black river to reach the Rhine. But, for merchants, they travel light. They carry nothing to trade . . . just silver for the Almaenwuhr.”

  “And you said Aineduai, too?” Athauhnu pressed.

  “Shuh,” Aneirin nodded again. “A troop of heavily armed Aineduai cavalry forced a passage through the Gate a couple of weeks ago. They were led by a prince of the Aineduai, called the Deluuhnu.”

  Deluuhnu, brother of Duuhruhda, I thought.

  “How do you know this?” Athauhnu pressed.

  Aneirin smiled coldly. “I said the Aineduai forced the Gate; I didn’t say they all made it through. Some of them fell into our hands and were . . . convinced, let’s say . . . to talk to us.”

  “The leader of the people along the Rhine,” I pressed. “Is it the Ariovistus as the Ainedua chief claims?”

  Aneirin nodded. “Ariovistus is what the Rhufeiniaid call him. To the Soucanai, he is uh Gweleduth, the ‘Seer.’ He now calls himself uhn fab i Rudianos, the Son of Rudianos, the god whom the Rhufeiniaid call Mars. He claims that the god, his father, has promised him rule of all the middle lands.”

  Aris Vistus, I thought, the Seer of Mars . . . Ariovistus.

  When Athauhnu and I returned to Caesar’s headquarters, we discovered that the little drama had not been received as well as the playwright had hoped. The room was divided with the legates and senior tribunes to one side and the senior centurions to the other.

  Gemellus, the camp praefect, was looking on, expressionless, while Malleus, Centurio Primus Pilus of the Tenth Legion, spoke, “The Tenth will do its duty, Imperator, as I’m sure all your legions will . . . but the battle with the Helvetii took its toll on the men . . . Strength is down; the men are exhausted . . . To march to the Rhenus, where no Roman army has ever gone, may be . . . may be . . . too optimistic a goal for now . . . We can winter on the Rhonus . . . refill our ranks . . . refit and let the men get their legs back . . . Then we can go after these German verpae in the spring.”

  The other centurions were nodding in agreement with the Hammer. The legates and the tribunes remained silent. I noticed the faces of some of Caesar’s legates were as white as a lupa’s face on a forum holiday.

  Finally, Crassus spoke up. “Delay is our enemy, Malleus. If those Grunni, those grunting barbarians, penetrate the valley of the Dubis and take Vesantio, we’ll have all Hades to pay to dislodge them. I say march now! Hit them hard before they’re ready for us. Every day we delay, a few hundred more of those hairbags cross the Rhenus!”

  I could see Malleus was about to respond when Caesar spoke up. “Gemellus! What’s the bottom line on this? Is the army ready to march against Ariovistus?”

  The centurions stared at the ground. Gemellus delayed for a few heartbeats. For a Roman officer, there was only one acceptable answer to this question.

  “Parati, Imperator!” Gemellus stated simply, “We are ready, sir!”

  The other centurions slowly assumed the position of attention in front of their general. But, their eyes remained masked.

  Caesar nodded in their direction with a grunt. “Very well! Thank you for your advice . . . all of you . . . You will have my decision before the tenth hour . . . Labienus and my personal staff, remain . . . The rest of you . . . miss’est . . . you are dismissed!”

  As the senior centurions filed out of Caesar’s headquarters, none of them spoke. I heard none of the normal bantering back and forth between them about whose boys were choking the dog in training exercises, or whose camp looked more like a Greek resort town than a Roman military installation. Even the ‘Hammer,’ who never missed an opportunity to give me some shit about being tied to Caesar’s cloak, walked past me as if I wasn’t even there.

  Caesar noticed me in the back of the tent. “Decurio! Did you learn anything from the Sequani?”

  I went over to where Caesar and Labienus were standing. “Imperator, the Sequani report that they still hold Vesantio and a place they call uh Porth, ‘the Gate.’ Ariovistus’ forces are still to east and north along the Rhenus but are pressing the Sequani.”

  Labienus interrupted, “What is this position called ‘the Gate’?”

  I shrugged and started, “I’m not sure, Legate, but it seems to be between Vesantio and the Rhenus.”

  Athauhnu, who was standing behind me, spoke up, “The Gate is a passage between the valleys of the Dubis and the Rhenus, where the Dubis turns south for its run to the Arar . . . It’s an opening north of the mountains of the forest that you Romans call Iuria and south of Vosego Mons . . . In the middle of the pass is a small oppidum of the Sequani called Caer Harth . . . It’s called ‘the Gate’ because it is the portal to the valley of the Rhonus.”

  Athauhnu now had Caesar’s interest. “Adonus Dux, can you show me on my map wher
e this . . . this ‘ah port’ is?”

  I saw a momentary look of panic in Athauhnu’s eyes. I was sure that he understood the Latin word, tabula, but I was quite sure he had never seen an actual map.

  “Permit me, Imperator,” I said, coming to Athauhnu’s rescue. I walked over to Caesar’s campaign map and found the blue, asymmetric horseshoe representing the river Dubis. I picked up the wooden sudis stake used for map briefings.

  “This is where the Dubis flows south toward the Arar,” I said, pointing to the top of the horseshoe. “To the south, the Jura Mountains; to the north, the Vosges; between them, the Gate, with Caer Harth . . . Castrum Bellum . . . in the center.”

  “Castrum Bellum,” Caesar repeated, “Belfort . . . that’s the key, Labienus . . . if I can get my legions in front of Belfort, Ariovistus will have to come to me!”

  “There are other matters, Imperator,” I offered.

  “Other matters?” Caesar repeated, turning back to me from Labienus.

  “Yes, Imperator,” I said. “The Sequani report that Dumnorix is with Ariovistus.”

  “Dumnorix, you say?” Caesar followed quickly. “So much the better. I have some unfinished business with that verpa.”

  “Yes, Imperator,” I agreed. “But, you should know that the Sequani also report there are Romans with Ariovistus in the valley of the Rhenus.”

  VII.

  Comites Caesari

  CAESAR’S COMPANIONS

  Paulatim autem Germanos consuescere Rhenum transire et in Galliam magnam eorum multitudinem venire populo Romano periculosum videbat neque sibi homines feros ac barbaros temperaturos existimabat quin cum omnem Galliam occupavissent ut ante Cimbri Teutonique fecissent in provinciam exirent atque inde in Italiam contenderent

  “Moreover, Caesar believed that the Germans would gradually think nothing of crossing the Rhenus and their great numbers in Gaul would be a menace to the Roman nation. Caesar concluded that, when the Germans had seized all Gaul, as the Cimbri and the Teutones had done before, a people so violent and barbaric would pour into the Province and then invade Italy.”

  (from Gaius Marius Insubrecus’ notebook of Caesar’s journal)

  When I told Caesar about the Romans, he just stared at me blankly for a few heartbeats. Then Agrippa broke in, “I’m sure there are Roman merchants who operate along the Arar and the Dubis.”

  “That may be true, Tribune,” I responded, “but the Sequani report that these merchants travel without trading goods. They also cannot be Roman spies, because they travel openly as Romans.”

  “Will those mentul’ never cease their plots against me?” I heard Caesar ask no one in particular.

  He then seemed to come back to himself and rejoin the discussion. “Neither the Roman presence nor that of Dumnorix is material to our purpose,” he stated. “We’ll deal with them in due course . . . Labienus . . . I’ve never seen Malleus so hesitant about advancing when there’s an enemy before him . . . Do you have a feel for the temper of the troops? Is the army in as bad a shape as the centurions imply?”

  Labienus thought for a few heartbeats before replying. “There is the issue of attrition after the battle with the Helvetii, but all of our legions are mission capable as far as equipment and manpower. The men are rested . . . We are well stocked with rations . . . The equipment is combat ready.”

  Caesar interrupted, “Then what is it, Labienus? What is compelling my senior centurions to advise delay?”

  “From what I hear, a couple of matters are affecting the men’s morale,” Labinus offered. “First, the men are angry that you released the Helvetians and did not place them sub corona . . . After such a desperate battle, the men felt entitled to the silver from the slave traders.”

  “I need a strong buffer on the Rhenus, Labiene,” Caesar started.

  This time Labienus interrupted, “I understand the strategic issue, Imperator, but from the point of view of the troops, they would rather have silver in their purses today and worry about a new battle tomorrow. Also, the castrones are stirring up trouble over the cross-leveling.”

  “The castrones!” Caesar barked. “The mus castrorum! The camp rats! Army brats! What possible problem could they have? Weren’t there plenty of early promotions to fill key leadership positions in the cohorts?”

  “That’s true, Imperator,” Labienus continued, “but the new legions . . . the Eleventh and Twelfth . . . were recruited in Gallia Cisalpina from the locals . . . The citizenship of many of these recruits is . . . well . . . doubtful . . . and many of the new troops can hardly speak more Latin than they had to learn in basic training . . . The castrones resent the new legions in general, but now that we have cross-leveled some of these recruits into the veteran legions, the castrones are stirring up the waters against them . . . Already there have been some issues . . . fights breaking out in the camps and the taverns in the vicus.”

  Agrippa must have seen the look of confusion in my eyes. He inclined in my direction and whispered, “The castrones are the sons of former legionaries and their camp women . . . They were born into the army . . . Some of them are third generation legionaries . . . They believe that they themselves should judge who is worthy to serve under the eagles . . . soldier or officer.”

  Caesar was speaking, “This is nothing a centurion’s cudgel can’t fix, Labienus. Have the legionary officers knock some sense into them!”

  “I don’t recommend that, Imperator,” Labienus countered. “That would not put the fire out. The embers would still glow hot under the ashes. The only fix for this is time . . . Once the castrones accept the Gaulic legionaries as dignos . . . worthy . . . this thing will blow over.”

  “So you think a winter in camp south of the Rhonus will fix the problem?” Caesar asked.

  “It would help sort things out,” Labienus agreed, “but there are other issues.”

  “Continue,” Caesar granted.

  “The enemy are Germans, Caesar,” Labienus said. “Most of these men were brought up on their mothers’ tales of those wild, hairy demons from beyond the Rhenus who would put them on spits and roast them over their camp fires.”

  “Pah!” Caesar dismissed Labienus’ concern. “We massacred the Cimbri the last time they dared show their hairy faces in the civilized world.”

  “That was on the Rhonus with a Marius,” Labienus countered. “You propose to march to the Rhenus without—” Labienus then realized his blunder.

  “Without a Marius,” Caesar completed his thought.

  Labienus’ face turned as red as that of a victorious general’s during his triumph.

  “Don’t worry, Labienus,” Caesar consoled. “I’ve said it many times . . . libertas . . . candor is a Roman virtue . . . I value your frank and candid opinions. Remember that, all of you! Don’t tell me what you think I want to hear; tell me what I need to hear. If this army is to win, I need your honest counsel. You’ll have plenty of chances to kiss some senator’s culus when you’re running for office back in Rome.”

  Caesar’s banter seemed to lighten the mood a bit. Then, he said to Labienus, “Let me see if I got it all . . . The men are pissed off because I let their slaves go . . . The castrones don’t like to share their tents with hicks from Gaul . . . The men are crapping their loincloths over marching to the Rhenus to fight a few shaggy Krauts . . . Is that it?”

  “There is one other matter,” Labienus vacillated.

  “Out with it, Labienus,” Caesar urged. “You haven’t seemed concerned about protecting my feelings to this point . . . Why start now?”

  “It’s . . . uh . . . it’s a political issue,” Labienus hesitated.

  “Shall we retire?” Agrippa offered.

  “No!” Caesar stated. “None of you can advise me unless you understand all the issues! Out with it, Labienus . . . I think I know what you’re going to say, but tell me anyway.”

  Labienus shrugged. “Ariovistus is on this side of the Rhenus because Rome invited him. The senate itself declared him a king, a friend, a
nd an ally of Rome. How can we just ignore that declaration and attack him?”

  Caesar nodded. “Good . . . the weasel’s out of the bag . . . Everything you say is true, Labienus . . . I myself was seated in the senate when that declaration was made . . . It made sense then . . . It does not make sense now . . . Ariovistus and the Suebii were encouraged to cross the Rhenus because, at that time, the biggest threat to Roman peace in Gaul was the Aedui, not a ragtag bunch of Grunni still dripping wet from swimming across the Rhenus . . . During the consulship of Murena and Silanus, my predecessor, as proconsul of Cisalpine Gaul, Quintus Caecilius Metellus Celer, met with Ariovistus personally . . . And Ariovistus served Rome well when he allied with the Sequani and destroyed the power of the Aeduan confederation at Magetobriga . . . That was then . . . Now, the Aedui are our allies . . . There are hundreds of pilosi crossing the Rhenus every day, and Ariovistus is pressuring the Sequani to give him lands in the valley of the Dubis. Ariovistus is now the greatest threat to the peace and well-being of the imperium . . . As far as what the senate may think, I don’t give a brass as . . . By the time those dithering old fools find out, I’ll have Ariovistus and his Krauts under the yoke . . . And if you’re worried about legalities, Labienus, just remember . . . the senate also passed a resolution that the proconsul of Gaul can take any measures he sees fit to protect the welfare of the imperium . . . I sat in the senate for that one, too . . . A permanent German presence along the Dubis or the Arar is not acceptable to Rome, and that’s exactly what we’ll be facing unless we act now.”