The road turned into a wide track with the grooves of many years of wagons trundling in and out of the town stretching away into the low country towards the rise where the forest began. On both sides of the road the crops were harvested, and the burned remains of stubble were left to await the winter. Marcus looked over his shoulder at the men around him, mostly his own troops and Narcius, with four or five of the townsmen following Vetto. Good enough, he thought. He’d already sent two men ahead to check the road and was calling for the troops to slow when the first of the scouting riders appeared at a gallop from around the corner, his face telling Marcus that the Gauls were directly behind him before he heard the thunder of hooves.
“To arms” he called as the scout’s voice came screaming across the few hundred paces to them. The riders drew swords and stepped into a line, their beasts snorting and dancing as the soldier’s man-handled them into position. The first Gauls to round the corner yelled blood-curling screams as they bent low over their horse’s necks and aimed directly at the Romans. Several of the Romans were already sliding off their mounts and pulling their round shields from their backs as they tied the horses to low branches by the side of the road.
“What are they doing?” called Vetto as the Gauls thundered straight at them, the sudden tide of men rounding the corner turning the road into a fog of dust.
“Get back on your horses” Marcus screamed as he turned to Narcius. He scanned the road around where the fight was going to take place. Short drops to the fields, stubble and narrow furrows, but otherwise stable ground. “Spread out” he yelled. “Fight in two’s and three’s but stay on your horses” he called as he looked at Vetto. “Vetto stay with me and Narcius” he shouted as the older man grunted and waved his long sword in the air.
The scout was wheeling his horse as he arrived and was dragging the beast back into the line of Roman and Ardean men. “Thirty-three” he called to the quizzical look on Marcus’ face as he nodded his reply.
“Take that section and work around their back” called Marcus as Vetto watched his arm wave to the left, his eyes scanning the road quickly. “We need to hit them hard” he called to the remaining men. “Are you with me?” he yelled as the first of the Gauls raised his sword, close enough now for Marcus to see the white-caked hair on the man’s head.
A great scream from the defenders rent the air as they kicked their horses into the gallop and aimed directly at the approaching Gallic cavalry. Vetto dug his knees into his mount and gripped the reins with his left hand as his right held out the old sword he carried. His heart raced in his chest as he ground his teeth and heard himself screaming at the Gauls, his voice indistinct amongst the shouts of the men around him. The Gauls had the momentum as the two sides clashed together on the road to Ardea, the first Roman to strike his sword at a Gaul finding his hand removed, sword still attached, as he hefted the blade at the head of his assailant. Screams filled the air as the Gauls waded into the Romans, men grasping at each other as they flailed with their swords in the tight melee before the Gallic leader, his golden torc glinting in the light, called the men to retreat. The Gauls disengaged rapidly, kicking and pushing at the Romans before they turned and raced twenty yards before turning and thundering back into the Roman line, more men falling to the heavy, slicing, blades.
“Wheel” Marcus called as a Gaul bashed his larger animal into his horse and knocked him into Vetto, the elderly soldier clearly not used to riding a horse. “Wheel” he screamed again as he thrust his shorter blade at the Gaul, who swiped it away with the thinner but longer broadsword he carried, expertly twisting the blade and bringing it around into a killing stroke as he hammered it at Marcus. Marcus gripped his sword tighter than he had ever done and pushed it up as the stroke came, the two metal blades clattering and scraping as the longer blade ran along the edge of Marcus’ sword. The Gaul grinned as his shoulder muscles bunched and he thrust his weight behind the weapon, shouting for his gods to strengthen his arm as he leant forwards. The blade rasped off the end of Marcus’ sword and he dived forwards as the blade clashed off the bronze of his helmet and bit into the leather of his shoulder. Another push from the left nearly unseated him as Vetto charged back into the Gaul, his longer blade pushing straight at the man, whose eyes were now wide in anger, his brown stained teeth clenched as he twisted on his horse and leant back to avoid the thrust.
Vetto was quick to adjust the sword but not quick enough, the Gaul had dragged his horse back and around, the thrust hitting cool air as the Gaul back-handed a weak swipe at Vetto. Marcus grimaced at the pain in his shoulder but squeezed his knees hard into his mount and made it jump forwards.
A scream to the left caught Marcus’ attention as Narcius pushed his blade into the belly of a Gaul, the thin shirt he wore soaking with blood the instant the sword re-appeared and the man sat still for a moment, staring in disbelief at his torn, blood soaked, shirt before collapsing from his horse. Vetto was hammering his sword at another Gaul, the bearded man grinning as the little Ardean bellowed his rage at the giant attacker. Taking the initiative Marcus sliced his sword across the Gauls thigh and rode into the back of another attacker, giving the Roman he was about to kill the chance to thrust his spear into the Gallic face, the point of the spear coming out of the back of his head as he fell backwards and disappeared under the hooves that danced over his body. Before Marcus had time to look at the falling body another blow whisked past his eyes, his instinctive dive causing the Gallic thrust to miss. Lunging forwards he thrust his blade into the chest of the man, the thud as he hit bone causing a shudder along his arm before he dragged his blade back and turned to stare at Vetto, who was being battered by the heavier sword of the Gallic leader.
Pulling his reins with his left-hand Marcus edged his horse back into the melee and thrashed at it with his knees to get it to half jump forwards, the motion clearing a small path as two Gauls were engaged with Romans, each grasping the others sword arms as they tried to kick out at each other. Breaking through the men gave Marcus a chance to line up a thrust at the Gallic leader, who twitched as he noticed Vetto’s eyes looking over his shoulder. But it was too late for him. He tried to dive forwards and right, expecting to fall under the swing of Marcus’ sword, but he had not reckoned on Vetto’s quick thinking as the man dropped his sword arm and pushed the tip of the blade up and into the Gaul’s throat, the long blade easily slicing into his neck as he moved his body weight forwards. The blade rasped along the golden torc of the leader as it left the back of his neck. Warm blood gushed onto the horse’s neck and the beast reared, kicking its legs at Vetto as the man twisted his horse, catching a hoof on the shin with a scream. A sudden surge came from the rear and Marcus twisted to see the men he had sent around the rear slam into the back of the Gauls, their blades arcing down like an enormous set of teeth closing on their prey. “Push on” Marcus screamed, his shoulder burning with pain but his mind over-coming it as he pulled his horse back.
Another Gaul fell, his hand grasping for Marcus’ legs as he disappeared to the floor. Swords whirled as he moved his body backwards and forwards in the unfamiliar action of fighting on horseback. The Gauls were taking more Romans as they half stood on their horses and thrashed their long blades at the seated men. A sudden cry came from the left as one of the Gauls appeared on foot, his hand holding the golden torc of the man that Vetto had killed before the Gaul leapt on his horse and turned to race away back along the track.
Almost as soon as the scream had died in the air the rest of the Gauls turned and charged back the way they had come, less than half their number escaping alive, some with blood streaming from wounds. Two of the Romans set off after them, screaming murder as they chased off into the distance ignoring the yells of Narcius as he tried to call them back.
Marcus stared at the blood and dust around him and took enormous gasps of air as he panted at the pain that shot through his arm. Around him men were moaning, half-dead Romans and Gauls littering the floor. Narcius edged next to him a
nd nodded, pushing the helmet from his head and grinning. “Ambustus would be proud of us” he said with a smile before noticing the pain on Marcus’ face.
“It’s nothing” Marcus replied as he noticed the look of concern. “A hit to the shoulder, but no damage” he said. He looked up the road. “Send two men to watch the road, another back to the town for a cart to bring back the dead” he said quickly as Vetto appeared on foot next to him, his half-burnt face covered in sweat and his eyes taking in the scene around him. Vetto nodded but didn’t interrupt as Marcus continued with the orders. “Sort the dead from the living and see what you can do for them” he said as he turned to Vetto. “Well done Councillor or is it First Spear?” he asked jovially.
“Ha” cried Vetto as he thrust his head back and laughed. He looked long and hard at Marcus before he spoke. “Short but sweet” he said as he looked at his old sword, the end bent to the left slightly. He shrugged. “Maybe it’s time to get a new one” he laughed. “This old thing was my father’s before it was mine” he said as he turned the blade left and right, his half-closed left eye watering as he spoke. He wiped it with the back of his hand and turned a cold stare back to Marcus. “So, Marcus Furius Camillus” he said. “I can see that you are no coward and I would say you would not have run from the river like so many did.” He twisted the sword one last time and shrugged before throwing it onto the ground with a deep sigh. “What do we do now? Defend or attack?” he asked as he searched the ground and picked up the Gallic blade from the dead leader, the heavy iron finely balanced as he nodded approvingly at its feel.
“I don’t know” Marcus said. “What would you suggest” he smiled.
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Chapter 13
The stone felt as cold as death as Damos slipped on his belly across the rubble strewn ruins of another house, decapitated statue heads staring out of colourfully painted eyes as if questioning his movements. The Gauls continued to bark angry noises at each other in the flickering lights of their fires as they roasted meat over open fires and drank from the hundreds of amphorae of wine that stood against the buildings along the road. His eyes blinked as a movement caught them, a small rodent stopping to momentarily stare at him, whiskers twitching, before it scurried off. Damos took a slow breath, his mouth turning down as he tried to hold in the disgust, he felt at the putrid smell which came from the road side. He closed his eyes and prayed to the shade of his father as he avoided more rotting corpses which the Gauls had simply left where they had fallen. The stench of urine and faeces was heavy in the air as he slipped through a doorway and rose to his feet, the small bag that was tied around his waist felt heavy as he adjusted it and squatted, ready to move as silently as he could through the darkness of the house.
A clattering noise caused him to stop dead before the splashing and grunting of the Gaul gave him the sound to move forwards. The rear doorway had been smashed open, wooden splinters across the road and the iron hinges hanging loosely. He peered along the narrow alleyway into the darkness and set his teeth into a grimace. The last time he had made this trip he had been seen by a dog, an enormous hunting beast with the eyes of death himself. If it hadn’t been for the fact it was tied to a wall he would have been caught, the thought made him steady his nerves as he waited to be sure that the beast was not lurking in the darkness to snare him. After a minute he set off across the alley and through into another short, high-sided, road filled with excrement and two dead bodies, naked girls the Gauls had used and discarded as if they were furniture. He held his breath as he passed the stinking corpses, half eaten by rats. Javenoli’s house was away to his right and down the hill, but here he was in the small grove of trees that led to the fountain at the cross roads. He slipped to the floor again and waited for the moon to slip behind a cloud, the gods favouring him as it took only a few heartbeats for the road to be shrouded in darkness. His fingers counted the notches in the gutter before he knew exactly where he was and paused as he craned his neck and listened for any sounds that might indicate he had been seen. None came.
Slowly he pulled his body across to the large flagstone that was his goal. The tree cover hid his movements as he braced his legs against the wall and slid his fingers into the gap. The stone lifted slowly as he twisted his hand and held the gap open a few inches. Grabbing the items in the bag he placed them slowly into the hole, already half full, and then slowly replaced the flagstone. As he moved his eyes back towards the city, spotted with the orange fires of the Gauls, he allowed himself to smile at the situation he found himself in. The easy part of his visit to the city had been completed. Now he had to search for food which he could take back to the Capitol to complete the ruse. The old bakery, he thought as he nodded slowly and set off towards the lower edges of the city where the Gauls had burnt most of the houses but had now left empty as they had removed as much food and wine as they could.
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“Another dead?” came the astonished voice of Senator Corvus as he closed his eyes and sighed deeply, his fingers steepling as his chin fell onto their tips. His cold brown eyes looked across at Coxo who had just brought him the news that another of the people crowded onto the Capitol had been found dead.
“Another” came the dejected voices reply.
“That’s three people in four weeks.”
“Three less to feed” Javenoli responded indifferently, his thin face daring Corvus to disagree with him.
“But, Gaius, another unexplained death to a patrician family member” he added in a hoarse whisper as the Senate leaders nodded in understanding. “First the two boys and now Julila of the Memericus clan. It must be connected, they all show signs of poison” he said quietly as the Senators stared at him.
“Took their own lives?” Javenoli half asked, half stated as he shrugged. “There is no evidence that anybody has tampered with their food. Its random coincidence” he said flatly as a few heads nodded. “Look” he added “the Capitol has two or three thousand people of the patrician clans here, the remainder of the Senate and a small number of plebeians and slaves.”
“And the animals” came a voice.
“And the animals” Javenoli conceded. “We are besieged by thirty or forty thousand Gallic warriors who are burning and looting the city. Why would somebody kill our own people?”
Silence fell into the room.
The Senate held a meeting in the small room at the back of the Temple to Jupiter every night as the moon reached its peak. Tonight’s meeting held the remaining forty-eight Senators and the three priests who had presided over the ceremonies prior to the meeting. A grumbling started as one of the men grimaced in the low candlelight and apologised for the noise his stomach was making, some others smiling and some looking angry as it reminded them of the lack of food they had.
“It seems strange” Lucius Furius Medullinus said forlornly. “That’s all.”
Javenoli squeezed his shoulder as he glanced to the figure sat next to him, his eyes sunken in his head in the semi darkness of the candlelight.
“How are the food searches going?” Javenoli asked in a brighter voice as he tried to raise the spirits of the men around him.
Lucius shook his head. “So far we have lost three men to the Gauls, caught searching for food” he shrugged. “And the others have returned almost empty handed. Only two men seem to be regularly coming back with something worthwhile” he said.
“Can they train some of the others in their search techniques?” asked Regillensis, his long nose catching the light as his eyes sparkled.
“Good idea” Lucius said warmly. “Your man is good Gaius” he said to Javenoli as he smiled back at the praise that was evident in the words.
“He was always a rogue” he laughed as a few of the men relaxed a little at the jest. “I’m even surprised he comes back some nights. I half expected him to run to the Gauls and join them” he added as he rolled his eyes.
“Well I’m pleased he hasn’t” Lucius said. “The question of food remains
an issue. Its four weeks since the Gauls took the city. So far, we’ve held out against their attacks, as has the small group on the Citadel, though they haven’t been so lucky, they lost several people to an attack only yesterday.” The men nodded solemnly. Another group of Romans had barricaded themselves onto the Citadel, another flat-topped hill with narrow and steep access to the top. They had been suffering from attacks more than the Capitol as the hill was not as easily defendable. “We have enough food for another three or four months at the rate we are consuming it” he continued. “But it looks like the Gauls are here to stay. There is no sign that they are leaving, and with the winter coming” he shook his head slowly.
As a hush fell into the room a clattering began from the doorway, the sound of feet stepping towards the closed door and raised voices as the guards challenged whoever was there. All eyes fell on the doorway as it abruptly opened and a legionary stepped in, his eyes squinting in the darkness.
“Senators” said the voice. “There is news” he added as he led a small man into the room, his eyes wide as he stared around the room.
“Damos?” Javenoli asked, his voice suddenly fearful after the words he had spoken just moments before.
“Master” said Damos as he fell to his knees and looked blankly into the room, clearly not able to see where Javenoli was sitting in the tight press of men.
“What is it man” Javenoli said as he stood and moved across towards his slave.
“Master. I went to the old bakery by the river where the houses are burned to the ground” he said quickly as he licked his dry lips. “There were many Gauls” he said as his eyes flicked around the Senators as they all sat staring at him. “But there is grain. Not much, but enough for a month, maybe more” he added as a small sigh of relief and a few muttered thanks to the gods came from the assembled leaders of the remains of Rome’s Senate. “But that is not all, Master” he said as he bit his lower lip and looked nervously around at the men. “There is news” he said.
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