The Swabian Affair

by Ray Gleason

  Then, Caesar chuckled, “I doubt Ariovistus realizes that were he to do what the Optimates in the senate are paying him for, Pompeius would be placed in command of this army . . . Ariovistus would be hoisted up on a cross before he had the chance to spend a brass ass of his blood money.”

  The next day by the first hour we were riding north. Caesar had mounted up the Second Century, First Cohort of the Tenth. Despite what he had said, as I looked at them riding behind me, they didn’t even look like Roman cavalry; they looked like sixty-seven Roman muli who strongly preferred not to be strapped to the backs of horses.

  They were commanded by a first line centurio prior, Volesus Salvius Durianus, known among the muli as Durus, the “Hard Case.” Durus was considered Malleus’ “number one,” to take command of the First Cohort and of the legion when the Hammer either stepped down or was put down in battle.

  At the beginning of the fourth watch, the Hammer had left camp in command of a vexillatio of Spanish light infantry and the fintai of Dai mab Gluhn’s cavalry. Their mission was to get in behind the hill where we were to meet Ariovistus and prevent him from pulling off any nasty surprises, while Caesar explained the facts of life to him.

  Caesar led our expedition, white stallion and red cloak to ensure that Ariovistus and every Grunnus within a thousand passus knew it was he. He took his legatus equitum, his cavalry commander, Publius Licinius Crassus with him, to “give the boy some seasoning,” as he put it.

  I was riding with Athauhnu’s fintai. We had Guithiru on the point and Ci’s ala on the flanks and rear. Athauhnu rode ahead with Guithiru, but Caesar insisted I remain with him in the main body. So, for that ride to our meeting with Ariovistus, my only entertainment was watching the legionary muli try to stay on the right side of their horses.

  We arrived at our destination during the fifth hour. Caesar halted a good two-hundred passus south of the hill. Durus dismounted his boys and established a doubled battleline, each contubernium manning two positions along the front rank, giving it a twenty-man front. Athauhnu placed Guithiru on the right flank, Ci on the left, while Durus’ optio and tesserarius straightened out the ranks of the muli. Finally, after a bit of pushing, shoving, and not a few slaps to the backs of helmets–very much to the amusement of my Sequani—Durus got the nod from his optio, after which he and the tesserarius took their positions to the rear of the formation.

  Durus and his signifer marched to the center-front of the battleline. Durus bellowed out, “Centuria . . . Stat’!” The muli stiffened, shields front and grounded, pila tucked into the right shoulder.

  Then, Durus faced Caesar, “Imperator! Centuria dua, Cohortis Unae, Legionis Decem parat’est! General! Second Century, First Cohort, Tenth Legion is ready!”

  Caesar nodded, “Laxat’! At ease!”

  The muli unstiffened slightly. Then, Caesar directed, “Dure! Have your men stand-down in place . . . They can drop their helmets and ground their equipment . . . Water and rations.”

  “A’mperi’tu, Imperator,” Durus responded, “Yes, sir!”

  Then, Caesar called over to Athauhnu, “Adone Dux!”

  “Ti’adsum, Imperator!” Athauhnu responded as if he been under the eagles his entire life, “Yes, sir!”

  “Place one ala forward to screen for our visitors, the other to screen the flanks and rear of this position,” Caesar directed. “Then, please join me here!”

  “A’mperi’tu, Imperator!”

  As Athauhnu coordinated his alae, Caesar jumped down from his horse and pulled off his helmet. Crassus and I did likewise. Caesar ran his hand through his sweat-matted hair, which exposed his rapidly receding hairline.

  “Landica Veneris! That breeze feels good,” Caesar muttered. Then, “Dure! Ad me venias! Durus! Please, come over here!”

  Durus double timed over to us. “Ti’adsum, Imperator!” he bellowed, standing as stiff as a spear.

  “Laxa!” Caesar cautioned. “Relax, Dure! Save your strength. You may need it. Ah . . . here’s Adonus Dux.”

  Athauhnu returned from stationing his riders and dismounted with us. Caesar began, “Bene . . . we’re all here . . . This next part may be tricky . . . Obviously, Ariovistus has nothing to say to me . . . so why the meeting? My guess is he wants to take a shot at me . . . He may try the same trick he used to snatch up Troucillus . . . If he does, we’re going to surprise him . . . Malleus is in postion with the Spani to the north . . . If he engages, he will signal . . . If that happens, we go after Ariovistus . . . Take him down; he’s of no value to us as a prisoner . . . If we kill Ariovistus, we probably kill Troucillus . . . I’d like to avoid that, but without Ariovistus, this whole German confederacy falls apart . . . So it’s an acceptable trade.”

  “Acceptable trade?” I was stunned. “Ariovistus for Troucillus?!” Another lesson in Romanitas.

  “The code word is alea, dice,” Caesar continued. “If I yell that, I want every pilum we have thrown at Ariovistus . . . Then, go in with the sword . . . If I’m down, Crasse, you give the order . . . If Crassus is down, Durus . . . If we’re all down . . . well, if that happens, just do what you have to do, Insubrecus . . . The primary target is Ariovistus. Adone Dux! You’re mounted and have the best chance of escape . . . If this thing goes to Hades, get back to Labienus . . . Tell him to get here as fast as he can with all that he can . . . Any questions?”

  Shaking of heads and negative grunts.

  “Bene!” Caesar said. “Now we wait.”

  We didn’t have long to wait. At mid-day, one of Guithiru’s troopers galloped back to our position. “Riders! Almaenwuhr! About two miles out!” he told me.

  “Grunni! Two thousand passus off,” I translated for Caesar.

  He nodded. “Have the cavalry withdraw slowly to this location. Slowly. Don’t lose contact.”

  I relayed the order and the trooper galloped back to Guithiru.

  Soon after the Sequani withdrew to us, we spotted the German scouts. They halted about two hundred passus to the east of the hill and waited. Soon, we saw the main body join them. Even at this distance, I could make out Ariovistus’ white stallion and the heavily armed cavalry of the Aeduan renegade, Deluuhnu mab Clethguuhno.

  “The gods smile on us today,” I heard Athauhnu hiss in Gah’el. “They deliver Aineduai for us to kill.”

  The Krauts seemed to gather in some sort of conference. Then, a lone rider galloped in our direction.

  “Who the kaisar?” he asked in a guttural Latin.

  “That me,” Caesar answered mockingly.

  The man didn’t get the joke. “King Ariovistus say meet the kaisar top hill ten man, no more; come now.”

  “The kaisar come now,” Caesar agreed.

  The man said something that sounded like “goot” and galloped back to his master.

  As Caesar retied his helmet, he instructed, “Crasse! Insubrece! You’re with me. Adone! Here with your riders! Be ready to make a dash up that hill if we’re attacked. Dure! Detail one contubernium to accompany me. Put them back on the horses. They’re supposed to be cavalry. You stay here with the rest of your centuria.”

  “Imperator!” Durus protested as Caesar remounted. “My duty is with you!”

  “Your duty, Centurio, is to obey my orders!” Caesar admonished. “Detail your optio to command my contubernium if you wish, but you remain here with your men.”

  We waited while the muli remounted. It was difficult to tell which were the more reluctant, the men or the horses, but soon they were aboard, and we rode toward the hill. As we pulled away from our party, I could see ten German riders do the same. Ariovistus was in the lead.

  We met at the top. Neither party dismounted.

  Up close, Ariovistus looked more like a weasel than he did a mystic German warlord. He was still wearing his gray cloak and carrying a long wooden staff. I was surprised to see that one member of his party was the ancient hag I had also seen at the Hill of Flocks. Her hair was an unwashed Gordian knot of grays and black. Her eyebrows were thi
ck and black; her complexion, an ashen, sallow yellow. She wore a shapeless sack of dirty gray linen. Her face was strangely unlined and beaded by piercing blue eyes, which, for some reason, were fixed directly on me.

  Ariovistus was speaking in Latin. “Gaius Iulius Caesar! Descendant of the goddess Venus and Roman Proconsul of the Gauls and Illyricum! Welcome to my lands! And, this must be the legate, Publius Licinius Crassus, son of your partner and fellow triumvir. And, who might this be?” he asked, fixing his glare on me.

  The old woman said something to Ariovistus in German. He nodded to her, and she urged her horse forward toward me.

  “Don’t be alarmed,” Ariovistus cautioned me. “Da elde moder wants to make your acquaintance.”

  Da elde moder, I thought: moder, mater, mother?

  The woman was next to me. My black stallion tried to shy away, but I steadied him. The woman sniffed me, then the horse. Then, she laughed and returned to Ariovistus.

  “De kild bit uuelle. Ac de hors bit estmere,” she snickered.

  Ariovistus nodded. “A Gallic boy . . . on a German horse . . . Then this must be Gaius Marius Insubrecus . . . Caesar’s little scribbler and go-for . . . I believe we have met before . . . the Hill of Flocks?”

  It was beginning to sound like Ariovistus’ intelligence network was every bit as good as Caesar’s. Then I remembered his network was also Caesar’s. Metius!

  “And the rest must be Roman legionaries pretending to be Roman cavalry,” Ariovistus laughed. “Well-played, Caesar. . . well-played, indeed . . . I too have a bit of a surprise for you . . . These men who are accompanying me are not mere cavalry either . . . They are the reges gentium, kings of my allied tribes . . . Harudes, Marcomanni, Triboci, Vangiones, Nemetes, Sedusii, and, of course, my Suebi . . . All the major nations of western Germania here, under my command . . . They were curious . . . They had heard how tiny Romans are . . . They couldn’t believe it . . . so I invited them here to see for themselves.”

  “Laden uuara suua uuac lic suua ik cuuath?” I heard Ariovistus snicker.

  The warriors with him laughed and nodded, “Ya . . . ya.”

  Suddenly, Ariovistus’ face turned serious, “So, Caesar, now I must ask you . . . why are you here in my lands with an army? These lands are mine, Caesar . . . I have taken them from the Gauls by the strength of my armies, as you Romans have taken land elsewhere . . . I am here at the invitation of your own senate, which calls me ‘friend and ally’ . . . So again, Caesar, why are you here?”

  Caesar was equally blunt, “Your usefulness to the Roman nation has passed, Arioviste! Despite that, I am willing to allow you to remain, but only after you have released Troucillus, as well as the Sequani and the Aedui you’re holding hostage. But, the rest of these barbarian spuma, this scum that follows in your wake, must return to the German swamps they crawled out of.”

  One of Ariovistus’ troopers was translating Caesar’s words into the guttural gibberish his “kings” understood. They were obviously not liking Caesar’s message. As the translator spoke, they actually began growling like hounds. Hands began dropping toward swords. Suddenly, our muli dropped from their horses, got their shields up, and planted their feet in a position I recognized. They were readying to launch their pila.

  Caesar saw the movement also and hissed to the optio in command, “Laxat’.”

  Ariovistus steadied his own men. “Don’t be rash, Caesar . . . You don’t want to die on this hill . . . You are facing German warriors . . . men who have never slept under a roof . . . men who live for battle . . . I have conquered these lands . . . I have conquered these people . . . I will do with them as I wish. Do I tell the Roman nation how to treat its conquered peoples? Then, how dare you presume to tell me how to treat mine? Don’t be a fool. You are welcomed to do what you want in your part of Gaul . . . Do not dare tell me what I must do in mine.”

  I realized suddenly that with one well-placed volley of pila, Caesar could end this thing. Ariovistus and all his chiefs are well within range! I thought to myself. Is Caesar thinking the same thing? Give the word, say ‘alea,’ I thought.

  Just then, I heard a Roman cornu sound from the north. Ariovistus heard it too. His face went deathly pale.

  “Hear that, oh great conqueror?” Caesar mocked him. “That sound means that your ambush will not be sprung . . . Your invincible German warriors are dying under the swords of Roman soldiers.”

  Ariovistus knew the game was up! And, he was under the spears of a trained Roman contubernium. Suddenly, he turned his horse, bending low over its neck.

  His men tried to follow, but Caesar yelled, “Alea!”

  Seven Roman pila were immediately hurled at Ariovistus. I saw one split the chest of his translator and another bring Ariovistus’ horse down. One of the Krauts pulled Ariovistus up on his horse. Our muli surged forward, shields up and gladii bared, but the Grunni quickly outdistanced them on their horses.

  To the east, Ariovistus’ comitatus saw the fight erupt on the hill. Deluuhnu’s troop surged forward, hoping to trap us on the hill. Immediately, Athauhnu and Guithiru charged to intercept them. They were badly outnumbered, but their goal was only to break the momentum of the charge until we could safely withdraw.

  I heard our optio give the order to reassemble and remount. The muli were picking up their pila as they jogged back toward their horses. One of the muli put his boot on the translator’s chest and pulled out his pilum. The legionary quickly checked the shaft and nodded; the Grunnus twitched once and was still.

  We were moving back toward our centuria when from below the hill I heard a crash as my Sequani struck the Aedui in the field behind us. In front of us, Durus was forming the men in an orbis, expecting a cavalry attack to his flanks and rear. In the distance, I could see Ci’s ala rushing forward to our aid.

  The muli opened their ranks so we could pass through to the center of their box formation. Our legionaries dismounted and Durus placed them into the line. Screaming their battle cries, Ci’s ala thundered past to reinforce Athauhnu and Guithiru, who were engaged with the Aedui.

  But, today wasn’t a day for dying.

  The Aedui covering Ariovistus’ retreat withdrew. Athauhnu moved slowly back toward our position, meeting Ci about halfway. It appeared that all of Guithiru’s riders were still in the saddle, though a couple seemed to be nursing wounds.

  Caesar remained mounted on his horse, scanning the field of battle from the center of the centuria.

  “Optime gestum!” I heard him say. “We missed that cunnus, Ariovistus, but that was damn well done!”

  As we rode back to our army, I raised my concerns about Troucillus, after what had happened on the hill.

  Caesar shook his head. “As long as Ariovistus thinks he can defeat my army, Troucillus is of value to him.”

  “In quo modo, Patrone?” I asked. “How?”

  “Troucillus is a prince of the Helvii,” Caesar explained. “His father holds the Rhodanus between tres Galliae, the three Gauls, and our provincia. Ariovistus believes he can trade Troucillus for a safe passage over the Rhodanus. Then, after he has conquered the lands of the Helvii, he has a tame prince to keep the Helvii in line.”

  “So, as long as Ariovistus thinks he can beat us, Troucillus is safe,” I clarified.

  Caesar nodded, “That’s what Metius reports. But, as soon as we defeat that mustela, that little rat-catcher, Ariovistus, we need to act fast if we’re going to get Troucillus out alive.”

  XVII.

  De Proelio ad Silvas Vosagonis

  THE BATTLE NEAR THE FOREST OF VOSAGO

  Ipse a dextro cornu quod eam partem minime firmam hostium esse animadverterat proelium commisit ita nostri acriter in hostes signo dato impetum fecerunt itaque hostes repente celeriterque procurrerunt ut spatium pila in hostes coiciendi non daretur relictis pilis comminus gladiis pugnatum est

  “After [Caesar] himself took command of the right flank because he considered the enemy weakest on this point, he initiated the battle. Whe
n the signal was given, our troops attacked fiercely. But at once, the enemy counterattacked unexpectedly, so that the interval needed for our men to launch their spears was closed. Our soldiers threw down their spears and engaged the enemy hand-to-hand with their swords.”

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

  Caesar never had any doubts that he would defeat Ariovistus in an open battle.

  I remembered Labienus explaining to me after Bibracte that barbarian armies, regardless of how terrifying they seemed, could rarely defeat Romans on open ground. Barbarians were successful only if they had overwhelming numbers or if they could lure the legions into a surprise ambush, in which they could not deploy into battle lines, or if the Roman commanders were complete incompetents.

  None of these conditions applied to Caesar and his campaign against Ariovistus. But, Caesar seemed ever eager to tempt the fates.

  The army reached the designated battle site during the seventh hour of the Dies Martis, the Day of Mars. Caesar immediately deployed his six legions in the acies triplex, the triple battle line. But, our exploratores reported that Ariovistus’ horde, still a good two days away, was spread out over miles and moving slowly down both banks of the river the Romans now called the Ilia.

  Caesar took advantage of the time Ariovistus was allowing him. He posted a strong cavalry screen to the north, up both banks of the Ilia, while he set his legions to building a string of castra about five hundred passus behind the putative battle site. When these were complete, he tasked the third line of the Twelfth Legion with bridging the Ilia about seven hundred passus upstream. The muli from the Twelfth also built a series of strong fortifications to protect the eastern approaches of the bridging point. If Ariovistus did attempt to flank the Roman battle line, Caesar now had a way of either preventing German crossing or quickly deploying troops to the east bank.

  On the third day after Caesar’s arrival, the Grunni began to arrive on the west bank of the Ilia. They created a strong stockade with their wagons about four hundred passus downstream from the Roman lines and did nothing. Labienus estimated they were waiting while their people straggled in and their troop strength built.