Gladius Winter

by J Glenn Bauer

  She cursed, punching and kicking at the men, her shrieks loud enough to startle birds off the nearby midden hills.

  Hanno glared again at Caros. “Start from the beginning, what happened yesterday?”

  Caros told the Carthaginian of the attack and routing of the auxiliaries and the subsequent approach of the Roman legionaries. He quickly recounted how he had advised Indibilis to take his victory and leave, ending with the outcome of Indibilis’ attack on the legionaries.

  Hanno’s face grew tighter as he registered the ring of truth in Caros’ words and how Indibilis had played his hand. All the while, Ensillia snarled and spat at Caros like a rabid lynx, prevented from leaping at him by the armed Libyans.

  “Send for Indibilis!” Hanno shouted to a servant a heartbeat after Caros had finished speaking.

  “I am here.” Indibilis approached fully dressed and armed. His face was bunched into a scowl and sweat beaded his forehead. He had no doubt been watching unobserved from the shade of a tent. He passed Ensillia, gesturing with a chopping motion for her to hold her tongue.

  “Greetings, Hanno. M’hatmu.” He looked at Caros. “Caros of the Bastetani.” His lips curled as he sneered the name of Caros’ people.

  One of the Libyans turned away from Ensillia and paced beside Indibilis. Caros saw more Ilerget warriors emerging from the tents and the spaces between them. The Libyan guards also noticed and the one in front of Ensillia hissed a warning. Hanno stared around, his face growing as cold as granite. He locked eyes with Indibilis.

  “You told me you defeated the Romans. Caros says that you were forced to flee.”

  “I never said it was an easy victory, but you know how it is in battle.” The Ilerget warrior shrugged and gave a dismissive smile. “What one warrior sees as defeat in the murk of battle, another may see as victory.”

  Caros stared in contempt at the Ilerget.

  “So you stand by your words? You defeated the Romans?” Hanno asked.

  Indibilis’ face grew darker as any man’s would when his integrity was questioned so openly.

  “What would I have to gain by lying? Yes, we lost many warriors and we gave ground, but we slew hundreds of the Romans.” He flicked his eyes at Caros for the barest moment. “I brought you a Roman standard. Was that a lie? I told you truthfully who took it did I not? Yet now, this outsider and stranger has your ear and calls my word into question.” He shook his head slowly. “Perhaps a better question would be what mayhem does this Bastetani seek to cause amongst us with these falsehoods?” Indibilis shrugged and looked earnestly at Hanno who shifted uncomfortably and turned to consider Caros. His face gave nothing away as he stared. Heartbeats passed in silence.

  Then Caros laughed, his growing outrage giving away to the absurdity of Indibilis’ words. He pointed at the Ilerget, whose face was a scowl now, eyes flashing. “The murk of battle is only bested by the maze in your words. How many warriors did you bring back from the field you fled?”

  Indibilis sighed and parted his lips to speak, but was cut off by M’hatmu. “A little over two and a half hundred. The rest lie where they fell. No kind of victory that.”

  The Ilerget’s lips grew pallid with anger and he glared first at M’hatmu, then Caros.

  Hanno stared at M’hatmu in surprise. He had clearly not known the scale of the Ilerget casualties. He turned on Indibilis. “You speak of victory, yet you lost nearly half your force and fled the field? This is no victory!” He visibly steadied himself. “We will wait for Hasdrubal. It appears that we will need him and his warriors to best the Romans.”

  Indibilis recoiled at the force of Hanno’s anger and then countered. “You will not fight the Romans? You think to hide here behind my people’s blades while the Romans burn their way into the countryside?” Spittle flew from the Ilerget’s mouth in his sudden rage. The Libyan guard at his side growled and grabbed his shoulder, dragging him from Hanno’s face.

  Ensillia howled and launched herself at the Libyan and in the blink of an eye, Ilerget warriors were closing from all sides on the group.

  “Hold!” Hanno bellowed as Caros gripped his sword hilt and braced himself.

  Indibilis tore free from the guard who was faced by a half dozen glaring Ilerget warriors, their blades drawn. “Hold? No! I will ride from here. There is a war to be fought and you are no commander the Ilerget would fight for.” He was panting, his eyes wild.

  Hanno glared at him. “You gave your pledge to fight for Barca and Carthage.”

  Indibilis sneered. “Yes, to fight! Not to cower while Romans butcher my land. Say you will march on the Romans today as you promised last night.” He dropped his voice. “Say it and I and my warriors will remain in your service. Will you fight, Hanno of Carthage?”

  Hanno trembled with anger. “We must wait for Hasdrubal.”

  Indibilis shook his head slowly. “Wait then, but you no longer have my warriors.” He took a step back and sneered. “Let your Bastetani make up for the loss of my spears.”

  Caros glowered at the Ilerget, but held his tongue. Hanno had decided to wait for Hasdrubal, but in doing so had thrown away the support of a large part of his forces. He would surely place the blame for that on Caros.

  Indibilis spat and turned, leaving with his warriors trailing after him and Ensillia at his side. She turned and fixed Caros with a baleful look for a full heartbeat before she lumbered away.

  Hanno cursed and staggered to a cushioned bench, dropping onto it with an exhausted groan. “Ba’al take his children!” The Carthaginian vented and slammed a fist into his palm. “Three thousand warriors he takes with him. How do I explain that to Hasdrubal?” He clutched his hair with both hands and bent his head.

  Caros had no answer. M’hatmu stood stiffly, equally silent.

  “Better if you had held your tongue, Caros.” Hanno whispered, fixing him with a look of despair. “Can you replace what we have lost? What of the Bastetani? Will they ride north to join us?”

  “I will send a summons for warriors, but I cannot say for certain if they will come north for this war, Hanno.”

  Hanno clenched his eyes tightly before he spoke. “Send it. Send a summons today. How many do you think might come?”

  Caros had no idea. The Bastetani were not a numerous people and were often the target of raids by the more belligerent Turdetani and Oretani tribes.

  “Some hundreds maybe. No more than a thousand and only if silver promised.” He spread his hands. “Indibilis may yet come to see sense. Once Hasdrubal arrives and we force a victory, his leading men will want to be part of that.”

  Hanno grimaced, but M’hatmu nodded. “Caros is right. What was lost today was a blow, but better that than for us to have lost all in a hopeless battle because of one man’s false claims.”

  Caros smiled gratefully at the Masulian who’s face remained impassive.

  Staring past them, eyes glazed, Hanno whispered, “Send the summons, Caros. We must have more warriors. I cannot fail Hannibal Barca.”

  Caros cleared his throat, “I will summon my people. I will also ride north among the Lacetani call on them to bring their spears. After all, it is their lands that feel the tramp of Romans.”

  Hanno nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, you are right. The Romans are already in their lands so I expect that many of their warriors may be ready to fight.”

  Caros stepped back. “I will ride today.” He caught the shrewd look M’hatmu gave him.

  Chapter 13

  There was a growing sense of uncertainty in the encampment. Leaving the pavilion after sitting with a Carthaginian scribe who had scratched a summons from Caros to a trusted friend on a small lead disc, Caros noticed the Libyan warriors were out in force around the pavilion. Entering the lines of Libyan tents, he saw that every warrior there too, was fully armored and armed and gathering in their units. Beyond the Libyan lines, were the tents of the combined tribes of Iberian warriors. Here, there was a real sense of alarm among the warriors as they watched the Ilerget stri
king their tents and preparing to leave. He cursed Indibilis for the chaos.

  He detoured to a line of tents that were occupied by two hundred Bastetani warriors who had pledged their service to Hannibal in the spring.

  Like the rest of the encampment, the Bastetani were clustered before their tent lines watching the departing Ilerget.

  “Greetings!” Caros called in his native dialect which immediately captured their attention. Those closest, returned the greeting dubiously. A warrior a head taller than the others and with a face pitted with scars, turned and saw Caros.

  His eyes widened in recognition. “Caros, son of Joaquim. Caros the Claw!” He bulled his way through the mass of men. “Greetings, Caros! I too fought at Sagunt. That was a cursed battle. I am Agelet, son of Cam.”

  Caros smiled. “Greetings Agelet. You stayed on with the Carthaginians?”

  The tall Bastetani laughed. “Coin and drink. A good fight now and then. Plus the stinking Turdetani burned out my village and left me with nothing to go back to.” He laughed again. “Have you come to join us, Caros?”

  “No, I need a message sent home.” Caros produced a small leather pouch engraved with the symbol of the Barcas. It contained the disc on which the summons had been scratched.

  Agelet regarded it solemnly. “To who?”

  “Neugen of Tagut.”

  “I remember the name. He was at Sagunt too.” He frowned. “You levying more warriors from the Bastetani for the Barcas? The leading men will not like that.”

  “Not levying, asking, and it is urgent. You have horses?”

  “Two good mounts and I know the road to Tagut. I too have people there to so it will be good to visit.”

  Caros pressed the message into Agelet’s hand along with two silver pieces. “In case it is lost, ask Neugen to bring as many warriors north as will freely come. This is a request from me, Caros of the Bastetani, not the Barcas.”

  Agelet’s eyes narrowed. “Got anything to do with the Ilerget buggering off?”

  Caros laughed dryly. “What do you think?”

  Agelet buried the message and coins inside his tunic and gripped Caros’ forearm. “I will leave today and be there in three days.”

  Caros pressed another coin into his hand. “Two days would be better and I hope you find your people in Tagut well.”

  Reaching their tent, Caros found the others watching the Ilerget exodus.

  Maleric saw him and gestured to the stream of people tramping out of the encampment. “You did not have anything to do with them all leaving did you?” Caros’ expression caused him to laugh aloud. “This is going to be a good tale.” He slapped Caros on the shoulder.

  Beaugissa cursed. “What happened?”

  “I will tell you on the way. Three days provisions?”

  Rappo bobbed his head. “Packed. I managed to get fresh fodder as well.”

  “Good man.” Caros inspected the packhorses, discreetly checking that the satchels of gold, hidden beneath a blanket and the bundles of fodder, were securely cinched on the backs of the horses.

  He grunted his satisfaction and winked at Rappo who grinned happily, glad to be forgiven.

  “We ride north as planned, only we have another task to complete as well.” He took in their curious stares, gauging their mood. “We are to convince as many Lacetani as possible to bring their spears.”

  Maleric frowned. “How do we do that?”

  Beaugissa laughed bitterly. “The Lacetani lands are where the Romans are thickest.” She looked at Caros. “We are more likely to be captured and given up to the Romans than convince them to bring their spears.”

  Maleric looked from her to Caros. “True?”

  He glared at Beaugissa. “There is that danger, but it is just as likely that they will want to help to defeat Rome’s legions.”

  Beaugissa laughed and gestured around her. “Then why are there no Lacetani here already? I will tell you. They have taken to the Greek ways and from there it is no great change to follow the Romans.” She challenged Caros, one eyebrow arched.

  He grinned at her and Maleric. “I never said it would be easy.”

  By nightfall they had broached the western borders of the lands that the Lacetani people occupied. They had passed three settlements, but Caros had steered around them, intent on delivering the gold to the Andosinni before trying to talk any Lacetani into fighting the Barca war against Rome. Of the Romans or their auxiliaries, they had seen no sign.

  They settled for the night in a small wood beside a stream that still held water in its rocky pools. Caros selected the spot after ensuring there were at least three good routes along which they could flee if they were discovered and attacked. Hanno’s scouts had reported that the bulk of the Roman forces were still placed around the Greek trading port of Empúries and the Indeget settlement of Indika. However, their mounted units travelled swiftly and in force across the Lacetani territory and units of legionaries could be found marching on any settlement they deemed uncooperative. In addition to the danger posed by the Romans themselves, any Lacetani they encountered may already have thrown in with the enemy. In short, they were in enemy territory and could not be careful enough. That was the reason they sat quietly chewing on their cold rations under the feeble glow of the moon. They could not risk lighting a fire that might be seen by enemy eyes. That was unfortunate as the nights were becoming increasingly colder as the autumn weather firmed its hold on the land.

  As though to emphasis the point, Beaugissa pulled her cloak on over her tunic and rolled herself in the blanket that doubled as her saddle.

  Maleric chuckled softly. “You think this is cold? Where I come from the winters are thick with snow so deep a horse could plunge from sight.” He cursed and a moment later spat a stone chip into his hand, before continuing, “The best way to stay alive at night when trying to sleep is to curl up nice and tight with one another.”

  Beaugissashifted and in her hand a blade glinted in the soft moonlight filtering through the trees above.

  “You try curling up under my blanket Gaul, and you will have to squat to take a piss for the rest of your life.”

  Rappo sniggered and Caros slapped Maleric on the shoulder. “What she means is she will lop off your manhood.”

  Maleric sighed, “I got that part.”

  Rappo slapped his thigh, “Not for long if you try to warm yourself under that blanket.”

  Caros chuckled and Maleric’s teeth showed through his smile. “Whoa, the little fellow making fun of the Gaul too now? What would you know of the cold, desert dweller?”

  “It is colder than this at night in the desert.” Rappo asserted.

  “So what? You curl up with your horses? Is that how you keep from freezing?”

  “There is no wood to burn. So instead we burn camel and horse shit.”

  There was silence as the others thought this over. Maleric was not having it. “That is probably the worst tale I have heard. Shit is damp, it cannot burn.” He argued confidently.

  “Ah, but the desert you know is a very hot place. The sun is very fierce. A wet turd is as dry as firewood before it hits the sand.” Rappo responded knowingly.

  Beaugissa snorted with laughter from her blankets as Maleric huffed. “Truly, that is repulsive.”

  Caros listened, shivered and wrapped himself in his cloak and blanket before laying back. He smiled at the memories of many such nights of idle banter with other companions. Near at hand, he could hear Beaugissa’s slow breath. Turning his head, he caught a brief reflection of light from her eyes as though she were watching him.

  The day following, they rode at a pace fast enough to eat up the land, but still preserve their mounts should they need a burst of speed.

  They made good time, especially as Beaugissa’s riding had improved markedly. Rappo rode beside her for most of the morning before dropping back and disappearing into a stand of deep bush, gesturing to Caros he needed to relieve himself.

  Caros dropped back to ride beside
Beaugissa, nodding approval at her good posture as they cantered through a valley and across the face of a low wooded hill.

  “You have improved a great deal. You enjoy riding?”

  She reached out and patted her mount’s shaggy neck, a smile playing across her lips. “I never imagined the joy of communing with a horse. I thought it was simply a matter of forcing it by command.” She smiled fully at Caros. “Riding is more like two souls journeying together. I look forward to telling Artur of this.”

  “That is a fine way of describing it.” He paused, hoping not to upset her. “Is Artur your son?”

  She gave him a startled look. “Son?” She laughed. “No. Artur is my husband. I have no sons, but two fine daughters.”

  Caros’ blinked in confusion. “Oh. I thought…”

  A hint of sadness swam deep in her eyes. “Yes, I know what you hoped.” She bit her lip and looked away.

  Caros frowned. He had presumed her husband killed by the Romans. Somehow, he had begun to think of her as more woman than fellow warrior. His fists tightened as an uncomfortable confusion washed over him.

  Beaugissa looked back at him. “You are a fine man, but you must know that. You should find a young woman the moment this war is done.”

  He nodded, images of that young woman engulfed in flame came too often still to his dreams. Ilimic who had died at Sagunt. He became aware of Beaugissa riding closer beside him and her hand reaching for his, settling over the fist in which he gripped his war spear.

  “I should have spoken of him before. Artur is a good man and although he is unable to be what he once was, I remain true to our promises.”

  “He is ill? Injured?” Caros asked with concern.

  Beaugissa smiled with fondness. “He is now a graybeard and already outlived two wives.” She grunted, her face suddenly as hardened as ever. “Might outlive a third as well.”

  Caros gritted his teeth. “You know that I will do all I can to make sure you return safely to your husband. And your two girls.”

  Ahead of them, Maleric cursed and turned his horse. Too fast. Caros watched in surprise as the big Gaul, ungainly on horseback at the best of times, waved frantically as he slipped from his horse.