Etrucio stared open mouthed at the barbarians, his eyes flicking from Brennus to the dead, head-less, body on the floor and back to the red droplets that were spotted throughout the chieftain’s beard and down his torso. The Gaul beamed back at him, his teeth red with the blood of his own cousin. Quintus realised he hadn’t taken a breath for a few moments and sucked air slowly into his lungs trying not to show any visible signs of the horror he had witnessed. What sort of people were these Gauls?
Silence fell across the square, the only sound the cawing of three or four birds high in the sky which seemed to please the Gauls as they glanced up and pointed at the circling birds.
“King of this city” Brennus said slowly. “We await your words” he crossed his arms and stepped back, the smaller form of Aengus suddenly stepping in front of Brennus, his green cloak wrapped around his shoulders again and a serene smile on his face which seemed to unnerve Etrucio and Porsenna, both men looking to the other.
“We” began Etrucio as he received a wave from the king to continue “the people of Clusium have called you here under the gods of speech and truce” he pointed to the entrails of the goat and chicken which remained on the table in front of him, two weak candles flickering in the light breeze before his gaze fell on the headless body of the Gaul and he shuddered. “To discuss the issue of your attack on our lands. An attack which is contrary to our laws and to those of the Etruscan alliance and that of the Latin league” he said firmly, a little of the confidence he had lost at the scene that had played out before him coming back into his voice. “As noted in our last meeting we bring these gallant men of the city of Rome, our friend and neighbour, to assist as ambassadors” he said, his voice trailing off as Belinus picked up the head of Batarius and started to wipe the blood from the face of the dead man. Quintus, Caeso and Numerius stepped forwards, Quintus nodding to Brennus and then to Belinus before locking eyes on Aengus, who seemed far happier than any man who had just committed such an act should be.
“We have heard of this Rome” Aengus replied. “And we welcome such glorious soldiers, as you surely are, to be here as ambassadors for these people” he added with a long smile and a smart bow. “You are like us, we hear” smiled Brennus as he turned his light eyes to Quintus. “You take from the weak as your gods dictate. We welcome your counsel as wise ambassadors.” He stressed the last words as if daring Quintus to declare that they were more than legal overseers in this discussion. A tall Gaul moved forwards next to his leader, his dark hair streaked with the white limewater which most of the Gauls seemed to wear. He spoke quietly into Brennus’ ear, his leader smiling as he spoke but he waved away his words. Quintus caught a confident sneer in the man’s eyes and made a note that he would be the first to get his sword should things turn ugly.
“We demand you give us the land as we have discussed” Aengus said, his Greek harsh and vulgar but understandable despite his tone being different to the other Gauls. His voice was sharp and harsh, the deepness accentuated by a jutting of his head as he spoke the last word. Quintus looked to the king, who sat with a look of fear on his face as Etrucio took a deep breath and stepped to the edge of the wooden plinth on which they stood. Quintus couldn’t help but notice that despite the extra height of the plinth all of the Gauls, except Aengus, were still taller than the short Etruscan.
“The land is ordained us by the crows who have brought us here” continued Aengus, speaking over Etrucio and turning his back on the flabbergasted man. “They tell us that our houses will thrive here by this river. Esus has spoken.” His voice dropped to a low whisper. “You saw the signs” he said as he motioned to the dead form of Batarius and stood facing the Gallic men in front of him. “Esus has declared to us that we have the right” he held out his right arm “as the god given spirit of Batarius declared” he said with a nod of his head at the body “by his head falling to the right, the crows feather following the path of the head and the body, we men of Gaul, will follow that lead.” A cheer came from the Gauls as the men of Clusium looked frantically to each other, their faces starting to look pale and drawn.
Aengus turned to the king. He smiled, all sense of malice gone from his features. “The gods have spoken, we will have the boundary stones drawn up and will send our traders to you within four days to see whether this town has any goods we may wish to trade.” He finished with a smile that would have been welcome at any social gathering, his red teeth being the only sign of what he had done in the past few minutes.
“Good” called Brennus and slapped Aengus on the back before turning and starting to walk away as the Gauls started chattering in their own language.
Quintus stared open-mouthed at the king and Etrucio as both men looked dumbfounded at each other.
“Wait” he called, his eyes catching the kings with a frown as if he wanted the king to stand up for his rights to retain his land. His eyes bored into Porsenna and he nodded his head angrily at the Gauls, who had started to turn with confused looks on their faces. The king hastily gripped Etrucio’s arm and pulled him close, the whispering coming quickly and sharply as the Gauls looked impatiently at the king. It was clear that neither man wished to be the one to speak to the Gauls. Quintus noticed the look of anger on the face of the Gaul who had spoken earlier. The Gaul gripped his groin and thrust it at him, making several of the Gauls burst into laughter as Brennus turned to see what was happening behind him. Caeso gripped Quintus’ arm as he made to step forward, the Gaul also changing his expression from mirth to alertness as the two men stared at each other.
“The Roman cock has balls, Gattric” Brennus laughed as he turned from the man behind him to stare back at the king. “Our discussion is over” Brennus said, his eyes moving from one man to the other as the elders of the city quailed under his gaze.
“You have no right to these lands” Quintus said coolly as he moved in front of the king. “Your laws are not the same as those of these people and they have no desire to give you or sell you the soil which their fathers and their forefathers have toiled for generations. We demand that you” he pointed at Brennus “leave and return to your own lands over the hills immediately.”
Brennus turned his face from anger to a peaceful smile and stepped backwards as Aengus moved in front of him, the Gallic leader crossing his thick arms over his torso and smiling with bloody lips at Quintus.
“Are you authorised, as ambassador, to speak for the king?” Aengus asked in his sharp voice, his smile belying the poison that sat behind his eyes.
Quintus took a moment to glance to the king, who stared helplessly at him before looking to Etrucio who seemed incapable of speaking, the barbarity of the Gauls clearly shaking the Clusian to the core. “Yes” he replied.
“Then state your terms ambassador and I will discuss them with Brennus of the Senones, hammer of the gods.”
Quintus tried to remember the words that they had rehearsed earlier, the declaration of war if the men of Gaul didn’t leave Etruscan lands within the day. “The king of Clusium denies your claims to his land, gained from the gods of Etruria and held by his forefathers for generations before your tribe was born” he started.
“Pah” spat Brennus, his frame growing as he stood over the smaller form of Aengus and ground his teeth. “You Romans are like us, you take from the weak, as it should be. The weak always submit to the strong. We know of your alliance Roman and we know of your strict adherence to the laws. We accept your words as men of honour as ambassadors. If you speak for the king…” he said as Aengus lightly touched his arm and Brennus looked to the green cloaked man and growled before stepping back. Aengus, his smile coming back to his face quickly, said “Ambassador” and nodded slowly. “We have set out the terms” he continued, his voice sharp but melodic. “As the counsel for Clusium do I understand that you refuse our right to take the land we have deemed suitable via peaceful terms?” he asked, his voice politeness itself.
Quintus fumed, he wanted nothing more than to slap the Gaul in the face but h
e knew he couldn’t do that, so he turned to the king. “Your majesty?” he asked before returning his eyes to the smiling face of Aengus.
The king stood slowly, pushing Etrucio away as the elder turned and stepped back, his eyes cast down to the headless corpse as he clutched at his mouth again.
“I, king Porsenna” he said his voice steadying as he spoke. “Refuse your demand. These lands are mine and will remain mine.” Before he could speak any more words, Aengus turned his back to the king and spoke loudly in the language of the Gauls, the king fluffing his words angrily as Quintus bridled at the display of poor manners shown to the elder citizens of Clusium by the Gallic leaders.
After a few seconds silence Brennus stepped forwards and peered at the king shaking his head with a wry smile. “Weak” he said in his thick Greek. He turned to Quintus and smiled. “Then you have made your decision, men of Clusium. You will find our warriors are the greatest fighters you have ever seen. They are made of iron. Their blood is given by the gods. We will strip this town and take your women first as you watch. Remember, Clusians, we do not take prisoners for slaves as you do. Everyone will die because of your hasty decision today.” He turned to Quintus and smiled. “You ambassadors can go home now” he said dismissively with a wave of his hand as he laughed loudly and turned to stride away.
Quintus watched as Aengus stared at him for a little longer, his eyes narrow as if he was scrutinising him. “Roman” Aengus said. “I do hope we meet again” he added with a nod and turned to follow two men who had gripped the feet of the body of Batarius and were dragging him along behind the leaders as they sauntered back through the city pointing once again to the high buildings and laughing their deep throated laughter.
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Chapter 2
“No Caeso, go now. The Clusians need me, they have no leaders with any military experience and will be slaughtered if I do not stay” said Quintus as his brother frowned at him.
“But Quintus you are an ambassador, you cannot fight against these Gauls it is against the laws and rules of all tribes whether Gauls or Etruscans or Roman” he said shaking his head furiously as his eyes darted around at the men bringing their horses.
Quintus replied with a huff. “I am needed brother” he said as he waved his hand towards the three horses being tethered by the stable. “The Gauls will see three men leave as they expect. They will not know I am here. How could they recognise me with this on?” he laughed holding up a thick bronze helmet with side plates roughly fixed to the rim and a crude nose guard. Caeso laughed with a shake of his head as he gripped his brothers’ hand.
“Always up for the fight aren’t you” he said affectionately. “Even in that poor excuse for a Greek helmet. At least you have your good armour” he added as he turned and waved to Numerius who was just appearing with packs to go on their horses for the return journey to Rome.
“And my sword” he laughed as he patted the thick, short, sword at his side. “Don’t forget your hoods” he called to his brothers as they mounted and kicked their horses into a quick trot through the gates of the city followed by the Clusian who had agreed to travel with them. All three men pulled the hoods of their travelling cloaks over their heads as they disappeared through the gate which was hastily slammed shut behind them. Quintus placed the helmet on his head, shifting it from side to side to get it to sit on the leather skullcap he wore underneath. He quickly stepped up to the walls and climbed the ladder.
“See they have let them leave” said one of the Clusian leaders, his shining armour almost new as it shone in the sunlight. Ahead of them the three horsemen trotted through the ranks of Gauls who had shifted to allow them passage.
“Where is Etrucio?” Quintus asked after a moment’s silence.
The elder took a deep snort and spat a long line of rheum over the parapet. “The dog has gone to his bed. Sick from the spectacle in the square. He is the coward that I always knew him for” the man added with real hatred for his fellow town elder. Quintus grunted a laugh at the turn of events. It was strange how death affected people and these Clusians had avoided any war due to the fact that they were as far north as any Etruscan land could be and a long way from the fallen capital of Veii.
“Will your men hold?” Quintus asked as he looked along the wall at the assortment of young boys, old men and even women who were sat waiting for the Gauls to attack.
“They will hold, or they will die” came the cold reply. Quintus smiled, he was beginning to like this man.
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Gattric came striding across the shrub land, his eyes glaring at Brennus.
“Why could I not kill that insolent pig?” he almost shouted as he approached the leaders of the Gallic army.
Brennus simply huffed and shook his head, bringing further angry scowls from the younger man.
“The Roman is nothing Gattric” Aengus answered as Brennus stood and surveyed the walls of Clusium.
“Your pet is talking for you again Brennus” spat Gattric as Aengus cracked a broad smile across his face and turned to face the tall Gaul.
“The pet” he said in his sharp tones “will be happy to teach you a lesson, boy” he said slowly as his forehead creased and his shoulders tensed.
“Stop it” Brennus said, his voice exasperated at the continued complaints from Gattric that he should be allowed to follow the Roman Quintus Fabius and cut his head from his body. Shaking his head, he pointed to the walls. “Cousin Gattric” he said with a grin. “Your tribe will be the first to assault the walls. You know the plan?” he asked without looking over at his cousin.
“Know the plan? I came up with it” Gattric spat as both Belinus and Aengus raised their eyebrows and looked to the Gallic tribal leader before turning back to stare at Gattric. The man stared them both down, his brown eyes daring them to challenge him.
“Then go” Brennus shrugged. “Don’t stand here with me and my pet” he added as he took a dagger from its sheath and started to pick at his finger nails. “Bring me the kings head cousin and I will grant you third place in the tribe” he said as he saw the sudden hunger in Gattric’s eyes.
“Third?” came the enthusiastic reply. “Ha-ha it will be done cousin” he barked. “The luck of Taranis to you all and may Teutates take the air from their lungs” he added as he turned to his right and walked to the body of Batarius which was hanging from the tree behind the Gallic leaders’ seat.
“For you cousin” he said, touching his sword to the body of his dead kinsman, “and for the Senones.” With that he quickly stepped out from the tree and looked to the left and right calling for his tribesmen to gather.
Brennus watched him go as the men started to chant his name and gather to watch the first attack.
“Middle of the day cousin.” Aengus spoke quietly and without looking at the face of his leader.
“Gattric has a hot head and the sun will make him hotter” he said. “With any luck the Clusians will remove his hot head from his shoulders and save me the trouble” he smiled as Aengus nodded. After a moment’s silence a dark crow, almost as big as any bird either man had seen before landed on the tree beside the body of Batarius, the black eyes twisting to look at them as if waiting for permission to peck at the body of the dead Gaul.
“A sign” Aengus said, stepping forwards. “Gattric will die but he will lead the way to a great victory” Aengus whispered quickly as his eyes glinted in the sunlight.
Brennus smiled and nodded several times before speaking. “Be my hand Aengus and make it happen” he said as he touched the druid’s shoulder and stood pointing to the crow.
“A sign. My people, a sign” he yelled as heads turned to see him pointing to the large black crow as he called out again and pointed at the walls of the city. As the noise level rose from the Gauls and the first line of Gallic warriors began to form, Aengus disappeared into the press of men, the glint of the curved blade he drew from a sheath at his waist shining in the bright mid-day sun.
; ************
“What is it” Quintus said as he squinted into the distance.
“They’re lining up for a frontal assault” said his new friend Demitrius. “Looks like a small force, maybe two thousand men” he said as he grinned. “Not a chance of getting near us” the leader of the city’s defences said as he readjusted his ill-fitting armour.
Quintus wasn’t so sure. The ditch wasn’t more than four feet deep and there were no spikes or traps set into the bottom as any good Roman camp would have. The approach to the walls, whilst flat, was riddled with stones and bushes, good for hiding or using to hurl at the defenders and half of the defenders on this wall looked no older than fifteen years of age. He had a bad feeling and tapped his sword three times to avert the evil eye before saying a quick prayer to Fortuna for luck. He peered over the wall. With the ditch it was probably slightly too far for two of the brutes to reach if one stood on the other’s shoulders. He breathed a small sigh of relief before turning back to Demetrius.
“How many attacks have there been against these walls?” he asked.
“Attacks? None” said the man with a puzzled look. “Nobody ever comes out this far” he shrugged as he smiled and looked back out to the front. Quintus raised his eyebrows and followed the gaze of the older man. The Gauls were now screaming and shouting, something had woken them up. They waved at the dead body of the decapitated man which was hanging from a tree, apparently some sort of offering to their gods, the priests had said. Then they streamed down into the shrub land before the walls, lining up in a long line one man thick, which stretched across the length of this section of the wall. Quintus couldn’t believe his eyes. The Gauls were almost all either naked or wore only the leggings that they wore constantly, even in this heat. A line of bare breasted women appeared, their shrill screeching piercing the air as they screamed to the men. He frowned and turned to the right and left. The rest of the Gauls appeared to be coming out to watch their fellows make the attack. There seemed to be no organisation in the attack, simply one group of men about to attack the walls. He smiled at the scene. Surely, they didn’t think that such a small force could gain access to the city? But it seemed they did. He nudged Demetrius.
Vae Victis Page 3