Vae Victis

by Francis Mulhern

  “Why Camillus” Javenoli said with his arms wide as he caught Gellius’ eye and shook his head in disbelief. “The conqueror of Veii. The man who we have just heard is striking fear into the hearts of the Gauls as he defeats them at every battle” he added incredulously as cheers came from a section of the gathered crowd.

  “So why hasn’t he come to Rome and smashed these barbarians already” Gellius replied with a sneer. “Is he here climbing up the Rock behind Comminus?” he asked as he turned to the complaining faction behind him. “You tell me why he hasn’t already come to our rescue” he shouted at the man who was berating him from the crowd.

  “Gentlemen” Javenoli shouted as he looked across at the angry mob that was staring back at him. “You men know as well as I do that to build a fighting force which will defeat these giants will take time. He has a thousand men” he said as his voice rose as he spoke. “The gods be praised that four thousand still live from the disaster at the river Allia” he added quickly as deep throated grunts came at his words. “Five thousand men against forty thousand barbarians?” he said as he looked at Gellius and then turned to the crowd. “As Dictator he will have the power to decide our fate and the fate of Rome. With five thousand soldiers he can seek to gain support from the local tribes of the Latin alliance. With such numbers they will see at least a chance for victory. At the very least he can pick away at the Gauls and force them to leave the city” he shouted as the noise rose again.

  “And what do we do in the meantime Javenoli?” shouted the Senator. “Wait here and starve? See our children die of the sickness and others fall from the cliffs mysteriously in the night? I say make one of us Dictator and then command Camillus to raise an army and attack the Barbarians. Better to die fighting than to starve” he called as men shouted him down.

  It took another half hour to quieten the mob as they pushed and shoved and argued backwards and forwards as to whether making Marcus Furius Camillus Dictator was the right thing to do. Manlius had swayed the argument with his well-chosen words to Comminus when he asked if the soldiers at Veii would follow anyone except Camillus. Comminus had replied that they would not and soon the arguments were won; the ceremonies were completed and Comminus was given a dry tunic and some near stale corn bread and had begun his slow climb back down the dark cliff as dawn threatened the sky.

  ************

  Aengus stood at the foot of the cliff and stared up at the sky above him. He listened to the noises above, the Romans were animated tonight more than any other night and he creased his brow as he considered what the cause might be. He had circled the lower districts of the Roman city and finally ended up here at the steep Rock that climbed to the resting place of the defenders on the Capitol Hill. Apart from the random noises from the hill top nothing else stirred except the occasional flight of a bat seeking night time prey. He wandered away towards the slope that led back down towards the bridge that led to the island in the river. Here, he knew, were a band of the Aedui who had gathered in the small houses which were situated on the island, nobody could have entered or left the city without the guards on the bridges seeing them, so he decided to go and talk to them. As he wandered along the higher bank the Romans began shouting again, angry voices raised as if there was fighting on top of the hill.

  The darkness precluded him seeing anything, but he wondered if Brennus had finally gained access to the Hill. Though knowing how drunk the Leader had been only hours earlier he was sure that was not the case. The Greek slave, who called himself Damos, had told Brennus that the Romans had stockpiled all their treasures in the temple on the hill and were, indeed, in dire straits. Starvation was rife and the older men and women had even jumped from the Hill to sacrifice themselves for their younger family members. Aengus had nodded at this wisdom and gained a certain level of respect for the Romans when he had heard this story. The news that the Romans had been sending slaves out at night to forage for food and steal from the sleeping Gauls had angered Brennus, but he had not killed the little Greek as Aengus had quelled his fury. The Greek could be useful. The Man had told them that he could find a way to let them onto the Hill if they spared his life, but Brennus had huffed at this and dismissed it instantly. Aengus, though, had listened carefully to Damos and a thought had struck him. The man said that the Romans had gold on the Hill and lots of it. Maybe now was the time to discuss a ransom, the city for the gold. He’d held back his thoughts from his cousin, but as he reached the lower road and approached the first guard on the stone bridge, he decided that he would discuss the idea with Brennus in the morning.

  A sudden gust of chill wind stopped Aengus in his tracks and he turned, his curved dagger already drawn as his eyes were raised to the temple at the top of the steep cliff. A black shape, a dark spirit, moved on the rock face and Aengus held his breath as he stared back up at the moving object. The bridge guard appeared beside him and followed his eye line.

  “Is it the spirit of the dead?” he asked as the dark shape slipped out of sight.

  “It will be if I can catch it” shouted Aengus as he ran back towards the Capitol, his feet padding into the distance as the guard stared in disbelief up at the Tarpeian Rock.

  ************

  Catamones of the Aulerci tribe stepped forwards and stared up the near vertical slope. Aengus nodded urgently as the man glanced to him.

  “The man may have gotten away but he showed us there is a way to get onto the Hill” Aengus said again as the Aulerci leader tightened his sword belt and moved to the sheer wall in front of him. He nudged the man next to him, a thick armed, hairy, warrior who wore nothing but a loose-fitting pair of leggings in rough wool and a sword belt.

  “There, and then we go there” Catamones said as he pointed at the shadows on the rock above him to highlight their direction of travel. The night was turning quickly towards the dawn and the Gauls knew they would have only an hour or two until the morning light drastically reduced their chances of scaling the Rock without being seen. Several Gauls fixed shields to their backs and swords to their belts and lined up beside their leader as they began the climb. Aengus watched with a smile as the climbers made steady progress up the initial part of the slope, then slowed as the light gave them less opportunities to see the hand and foot holds. After half an hour the leading men were close to the top and Aengus stepped back and waved to Belinus and the Aedui leader Bellosenos who turned and ran up the Hill towards the road that led to the Capitol. At the junction they had four hundred warriors who, when given the signal, would storm the barricade. If the Gauls could attack from both ends of the Capitol they could surely overcome the Romans.

  ************

  Javenoli couldn’t sleep. The same nightmare kept coming back to him, Damos smiling, fingers drenched in gold rings, his neck circled with thick gold chains and his arms full of scrolls containing the land deeds for the highest quality houses of the families who had given them to him for protection. He woke in a cold sweat, his eyes blurry and fog-filled as he wiped a cloth across his face several times before cursing his bad luck.

  He moved away to the geese pen where his favourites came out seeking food, but moved past them, glancing into the pen and noting that nothing had been disturbed. Curse Damos, had the man run with his treasure or had he been caught and tortured by the Gauls? He set his jaw tight and moved to the back of the temple to the low wall where the latrines had been set and lifted his thick tunic to relieve himself. The cool air wafted up his legs as the stream came and he sighed in relief and his shoulders relaxed.

  “You are up early” a voice said quietly in his ear as Javenoli jumped with a squeal and let the tunic drop into the stream of urine as he turned quickly to see Marcus Manlius standing right behind him, his face dark against the low moonlight.

  “Manlius” he whispered harshly. “Don’t do that” he said with real anger in his voice as his eyes flicked around the site, people sleeping in their make-shift tents nearby. “You scared me half to death” he said as his che
st rose and fell rapidly.

  Manlius looked at the Senator and a small smile crept onto his face. “It seems the guards are asleep, again” he said with a nod to the sleeping man who was leaning against the low wall someway to their left. Javenoli shook his head.

  “In my military days it would be instant death” he said coldly. “I suppose up here it is different” he added as he brushed his tunic down and looked up at Manlius.

  “Have you considered our discussion?” he asked slowly and quietly.

  “Indeed, I have Senator” Manlius replied. “My star is rising and I will need the resources to achieve our common aim” he said with a wicked smile as his head looked along the Hill and came back to rest on Javenoli. “When it is light, we will discuss it again. Right now, I need to...” he nodded beyond Javenoli towards the latrines and grinned, at which the Senator nodded comprehension and moved out of his way.

  “Until later then, Manlius” Javenoli grinned as he rubbed his hands together with a certain measure of glee.

  ************

  Catamones felt the grip in his fingers slipping and grunted quietly as he slid to the next ledge. Here he could get a good footing and lift the man behind him onto the same small shelf and be propelled up to the next level. So far, the gods had been with them and they had scaled the face of the Capitol both quickly and quietly. His breath steadied as he gained the foothold he had spotted and dropped an arm to his left to ease the next warrior along. Success this night would move his family higher up the social scale in the clan and he smiled at the thought. For years he had fought well in the tribal wars, taken many heads and the wisdom of his foes through drinking their blood and keeping their skulls. He knew that time would give him a chance, just one, and this was it. He said a silent prayer to the god of the sky that he be successful and elevate his clan towards the overall chieftainship of the Aulerci. He had already gained many close ties to the other tribes; his son was fostering with the Aedui to learn their skills with the horse and his daughters were betrothed to good men within the Aulerci hierarchy. Today would see their bridal price rise to the heavens and his son would get the best horse his patronage could buy. His mind came back to the present as one of the warriors cupped his fingers and waited for Catamones to place his bare foot into his waiting hands. Another ten minutes and they would be at the top. Catamones felt his pulse rise as the realisation of his dreams stared down at him. The top of the Capitol was his.

  Manlius couldn’t sleep. His mind was working through Javenoli’s scheme and his thoughts were racing from one thing to the next in such a random order that he twisted and turned on his blankets. His wife grumbled as he turned again and he decided to step outside, dawn couldn’t be more than an hour away and, he decided, there was no point keeping everyone else awake. He slipped a cloak over his tunic and edged out of the tent flap into the semi-cold darkness. The night wasn’t as cold as it had been earlier when he met Javenoli over at the wall, he glanced across and saw a movement. What was that he wondered as he squinted into the darkness, someone moving over by the pen where the geese were kept.

  He quickly strode past the sleeping dogs, all huddled together for warmth, and headed to the temple. The geese pen was open and several of the orange billed birds were already moving out onto the cobbles of the roadway. Someone was in the pen at the back, shifting the straw as if looking for something. One of the geese honked quietly as he moved past it, the bird raising its beak at him silently in protest but not hissing, the animals had become used to people and so hardly bothered hissing and spitting, as was there usual custom, when somebody came across them. Manlius bent forwards as he looked into the darkness of the low hut that held the geese, and there was the backside and back of the head of Gaius Javenoli. What was the man doing? He had taken to looking after the sacred geese as if it was his calling in life, but at this hour of the morning?

  “Javenoli?” Manlius asked and was rewarded with a squeal and the Senator jumping so violently that the man bashed his head against the cross beam of the hut and hissed noisily, just like a goose, Manlius laughed to himself. “What are you doing?” he asked as the Senator rolled onto his side and looked back up rubbing his head vigorously.

  “Gods, Manlius” Javenoli hissed at him, his voice full of anger and venom. “Sneaking up on me again, man” he said with exasperation as he tried to shuffle out of the hut on his bottom. Manlius stepped back as a goose away to his left lifted its head and hissed at the wall, its friends waddling across as if they were being called. Manlius glanced across with a frown before the grumbling noise that was Javenoli began to rise to his feet. “What are you…” Javenoli started before several hissing and honking noises started directly behind Manlius, the noise blaring like a trumpet into the silence of the night.

  “What the...” Manlius said as he turned and saw a dark shadow moving across the low wall, the unmistakable rasp of a sword being drawn from its scabbard was audible within the honking of the, now flapping, geese. “Shit, the Gauls” Manlius shouted as he turned and his eyes darted around the area in which he stood. “There, Gaius” he called as he ran towards a thick tent and grabbed a shield, the circular wood knocking several spears to the floor as he grabbed it and dashed across towards the wall.

  “To arms” screamed Javenoli as he gripped a spear and lurched away at the space where Manlius was now closing on the first Gauls to reach the Capitol.

  Manlius placed his shoulder behind the shield and raced at the leading Gaul, unable to see his face but knowing that he couldn’t let them get onto the capitol. Without thinking he screamed at the guard, the sleeping man stunned as he jerked at the rising noise of geese and screaming men. Behind him he heard Javenoli calling the men to arms and other guards were already calling and running towards him. The Gaul placed his foot over the wall and turned his long sword towards the figure charging at him, and Manlius took a deep breath as he braced himself for the impact.

  Catamones ground his teeth as he lurched over the wall and was met with a wall of white feathers which raised their long necks at him and began to hiss and cackle, his momentum caught momentarily as he stared at the creatures in shock before he realised what they were. The moment’s hesitation led him to miss the running figure which appeared in front of him as his eyes rose quickly to see the shield crashing towards his face. He tried to lift his sword, but the blade caught on the wood of the defending Roman and he felt a sudden pulling in his stomach as he rolled back over the wall and felt his body crashing into the men behind him before he sensed the rush of air that meant he was falling to his death.

  Manlius fell onto the hard stone of the wall as his shoulder burst into pain as he thumped the bronze boss of the shield into the attacker with all his might. The Gaul clattered his sword into the shield but it was too late. He saw two other figures in the darkness before he heard the long guttural screams as they fell to their deaths at the bottom of the Rock, the sickening thud of more than one man hitting the ground only just audible as the geese screamed and hissed at the men who were now running around them. Another attacker lurched into view, his sword glinting in the low moonlight and Manlius suddenly realised he only held a shield. Another Gaul appeared, the bearded man scrambling wildly to get up the last few steps to the hill top. Manlius took a swing with his shield as he parried the first sword strike, the blow bouncing from the rim of his wooden protection before he was kicked in the side by the approaching Gaul, so large he had bounded the wall in a stride and used his considerable bulk to crash into Manlius. A spear strike completely missed the Gaul but put him off his stride enough for him to miss Manlius with a chopping stroke at his head, the metal creating sparks on the stones as Manlius rolled away.

  Another spear thrust crashed into Manlius’ shield as his body moved back and he screamed at the Roman guard for his ridiculously bad attempt to kill the Gaul. As he stared up into the face of the bearded Gallic attacker Manlius saw his death etched into the warrior’s grin as his two-handed strike reached its
zenith and he saw the muscles of his shoulders bunch and tighten into the downswing. Screaming his defiance Manlius raised the shield to cover his upper body and head and clenched his teeth for the impact, but it didn’t come. The Gauls dead body fell across his legs and Manlius scrambled to his feet as his eyes looked around wildly to thank the guard, but the guard was nowhere to be seen. Gaius Javenoli screamed as he yanked his blood-soaked spear from the temple of the enormous Gaul, his feral scream bringing Manlius back to his senses as he gripped the broad sword that the Gaul was just about to decapitate him with and rounded on the next Gaul to step across the wall. Javenoli almost fell as he finally tugged the spear from the dead body, but Manlius was already hacking at the hands of the Gauls who were attempting to scramble up onto the top of the wall. To his right Manlius saw another guard jump onto the wall and launch a spear at an angle into the wall, his yelling continuing as he grabbed stones and rocks and threw them at the climbing men who clambered up the Rock like an army of spiders.

  “Set up a shield wall” Manlius yelled as the defenders started to appear. “A wall, now” he screamed as his voice croaked as he shouted the words. He hacked at the bare head of a Gaul whose eyes caught his momentarily before the broad Gallic blade bit into the top of his skull and cleaved a great chunk of his scalp and brain from the top of his head, the dead eyes falling slowly backwards from the Rock as Manlius pulled the heavy blade back and took several deep breaths.

  “They’re going back down” he screamed. “Get spears” he yelled as he clambered over the blood covered knee-high wall and peered over the edge. As far down as he could see glistening bodies writhed in motion as they attempted to climb back down the face of the cold stone. “No. save the spears” he shouted urgently “break the wall and throw it at them” he screamed as he turned and kicked at the wall, several other hands already doing as he had ordered. Within seconds a hundred Romans, men, women and children were throwing rocks and stones onto the heads of the descending Gauls, each scream followed by a cheer from the top of the Capitol as the Romans fell to their deadly duty with alacrity.