Marching With Caesar: Conquest of Gaul (79 page)

I probably should have left well enough alone, yet the thought that Gisela was punishing Calienus for re-enlisting bothered me to the point that one night, with Calienus deciding that perhaps it was best that he stay in camp for a few days, I violated the rules and went to see Gisela alone. Making my way to the bar, when I entered by myself Gisela looked at me in surprise then walked up to me, giving me a quick hug like she always did, while I felt a thrill of excitement like I always did.

“
Salve
Titus Pullus,” she said in her accented camp Latin, waving me to our normal table.

Without asking, she brought me a cup of wine, then remained standing there, staring at me with those green eyes. I could swear that she was looking into my soul and seeing my true feelings. I felt the heat rising to my face, making me thankful when she cut the silence that was growing between us by asking, “And what are you doing here all by yourself? Where is Domitius?”

I was surprised that she did not mention Calienus, although I probably should not have been. Not sure how to approach the subject, I decided to handle it in the same manner I did with all things in my life, head on and swinging away. “Why are you angry at Calienus?” I asked bluntly.

If I had thought to take her by surprise, I was to be disappointed. Her eyes showed nothing but a hint of anger. “Did he send you here for him?” she demanded, putting her hands on her hips, cocking her head to one side as she waited for an answer.

I struggled to keep my focus on the topic and not get lost in my inspection of the freckles sprinkled across her nose. A part of me continued the conversation, as I protested, “No! He knows nothing about me being here.”

Her expression softened, but just a little. “Then why are you here?”

There was no way that I could give her the real reason, so the best I could do was a lame, “Well, because I’m worried about him.”

She laughed, and I saw how impossibly white her teeth were, making me feel positively dingy in comparison. “Calienus? You’re worried about Calienus?”

She shook her head, but all the humor left her face when I responded. “I know about the soothsayer,” I said quietly.

Her face flushed red, except I could not tell whether it was anger or embarrassment or both. “He had no right to tell you such things,” she hissed.

“Yes, but what does that have to do with it?” she demanded, and in truth, I did not know myself. I just said that because I did not know what else to say. However, I had blazed the path in this direction, so I must see it through, I thought to myself, even if it makes her even angrier. “It has to do with the fact that you and your soothsayer have your own gods. They’re not our gods.”

Even as I said it, I suspected that this would make her angrier, and I was right.

“So, you are saying that your gods are more powerful,” she spat.

I shrugged, not saying anything for a moment, seeing that she was in no mood to make this easy on me. “Isn’t it obvious?” I asked, and in truth I thought it was, and still do. “We’ve conquered your people, no matter how much of a struggle you put up. Isn’t that proof that our gods are more powerful than yours?”

The blow caught me completely by surprise, her tiny white fist lashing out with surprising speed to strike me square in the chest, and I say with no shame that she almost knocked the wind out of me. I was stunned, but when she drew her fist back to strike me again, I was not about to let her hit me again, catching her wrist as she lashed out instead. She was surprisingly strong, but she was no match for me and I came to my feet to tower over her. Thinking that the strength of my grip would dissuade her from any more violence, it turned out I was wrong, because she lashed out with her left hand, with an open palm this time as she slapped me across the face, hard. My head rocked back and I felt the fire where her hand had hit me on my right cheek, the first stirring of real anger coming over me, anger and………something else. Drawing her hand back to hit me again, I caught that one as well, so that I now held both her arms, but she was not through yet. Standing there for a moment, the only sound was our breathing as she struggled and thrashed wildly, the barman and the two other patrons in the place shocked into silence. I stood there, immobile and unyielding, watching her fight wildly to escape my grip, her red hair whipping about like liquid flame, her cheeks flushed red and her lips parted as she gasped for breath, so that whatever reservations I was feeling up to that moment vanished, deciding then and there that she would be my woman, one way or another, whether I had to fight Calienus for her, or if her gods turned out to be right after all. The instant that thought crossed my mind it was like being dashed with a bucket of cold water and I came to my senses, shocked at myself. To that point I was standing there passively as she struggled, but now I shook her, hard.

“Stop this nonsense,” I roared in my best command voice, and to her credit, she did stop.

Her hair was in her eyes, but I could see them blazing through at me, her breasts heaving and despite my horror at what I was thinking, I could not help noticing a trickle of sweat running down between them,and I felt the heat coming back. Before it could take hold, I said in what I hoped was a soothing tone, “Gisela, I meant no disrespect to your gods. I was just trying to explain why Calienus re-enlisted. He feels that our gods are strong enough to protect him.”

“Well, more fool him,” she snapped. “Our gods are much more ancient than yours, and they are just as powerful.”

I was smart enough at least not to argue the point anymore. Instead, I took a conciliatory approach. “All right, fair enough. I just wanted to come talk to you because he’s one of my best friends, and I know how much he loves you.”

Her face softened, and her body went limp, so I released my grip on her arms, trying to ignore the angry red marks I had left, yet she seemed not to notice. Her expression saddened, and she replied softly, “Calienus is a good man. I know that. I could have had any man I chose, even the Centurions and Tribunes, but I chose him.”

I was about to open my mouth and ask exactly how that happened, then decided to keep my mouth shut, not wanting to ruin the fragile peace. She looked up at me, and I could see the beginning of tears shining in her eyes. “That is why I do not want to lose him. But he chose his path, even after I told him what it meant. I cannot spend any more time loving someone who I know I will lose. I already lost everyone else I ever cared about. It’s better that I stop caring about Calienus now, while he is still alive, then suffer again.”

This was the first time I had ever heard her make any mention of her family’s fate; Calienus once told me that it was a subject that they never discussed. Listening to her, I realized that I could not fault her for feeling this way. She obviously had already suffered great loss, something I do not believe that we Legionaries every really understand, nor particularly care about. It is not because we are that callous, although in many ways we are, but to dwell on such matters make the people we fight and conquer more like us. Once your enemy starts being human, it is not long before you hesitate when facing one of them, and that is when you become food for the carrion birds. Consequently, it is better to harden one’s heart and survive; at least that is what we tell ourselves. Leaving Gisela, I walked back to the camp deep in thought. A seed was planted in my mind, and it would take root and grow. I would make Gisela mine, somehow. I just hoped that it was not going to be over the body of my friend.

While our own little drama was being played out, the larger events around us were picking up momentum. After the trial and execution of Acco, Caesar left us to go to the Province to hold the assizes, and the Gallic chiefs worked quickly to strike while Caesar was away. Two of the chiefs of the Carnutes, Cotuatus and Coconnetodumnus started the revolt by descending on the town of Cenabum, by now an important grain depot for the army, subsequently attracting a fair number of Roman citizens, all of whom were put to the sword. It was still winter, but late in the season, yet despite the snow laying on the ground and the overall difficulty of traveling at such a time, word of the massacre at Cenabum spread like wildfire in a drought. News of the slaughter reached the ears of Vercingetorix before a full day passed, in his hometown of Gergovia, some 150 miles to the south of Cenabum. Vercingetorix was the scion of the Arverni tribe, his father having at one time been considered the most powerful chief in Gaul. Vercingetorix was a young man, about my age I believe, and he immediately began pressing for war. His uncle, a man named Gobannito, along with other tribal elders were not willing to countenance such talk, so Vercingetorix was banished from Gergovia. Undaunted, he began raising an army, first starting with fellow outcasts and bandits of every description. Soon after, his powerful personality and name drew the young men of not just his tribe, but those surrounding Arverni territory. In a matter of weeks his power grew to such proportions that he was unanimously named commander in chief by all the tribes involved, no mean feat.

Vercingetorix was not only charismatic, he was smart. Knowing that his best opportunity was to strike while Caesar was not in command, he wasted no time in doing so. Dividing his army into two, he appointed a Cadurcan named Lucterus to march rapidly south to the border of the Province, into the lands of the Ruteni, with the goal of creating a situation where Caesar could not safely travel north to unite with us. Meanwhile, Vercingetorix headed north to pressure the Bituriges, their lands bordering the Aedui, the only tribe in Gaul who had constantly kept faith with Rome these now-six years, into making a choice. The Bituriges sent for aid to the Aedui, prompting the Aedui to ask Labienus for advice, and he ordered them to send aid to the Bituriges. Being fair, they did raise a force that actually marched to the banks of the Liger (Loire) River, the boundary between the two tribes. However, that is as far as they went; they sat on the banks of the river for a few days before turning around, returning to their homes without striking a blow. The reason they gave was that they worried that by crossing the river, they would be at the mercy of both the Arverni, their traditional enemies, and the Bituriges who might take this opportunity to throw in with the Arverni in the hopes of gaining territory. Whether this was true or just an excuse, the result was the same; the moment the Aedui left the banks of the river to return to their homes, the Bituriges indeed allied themselves with Vercingetorix. Vercingetorix’s first goal was to keep Caesar from joining his army, and he was initially very successful. By this point in mid-Februarius, the Gaul had managed to form a coalition of Arverni, Bituriges, Senones, Parisii, Pictones, Cadurci, Turoni, Aulerci, Lemovices, Andi and the maritime tribes along the southern coast. Lucterus succeeded in subverting the Ruteni and was now marching on the Nitiobriges and Gabali tribes. Within days Vercingetorix’ lieutenant managed to gather a huge army.

Caesar, and by extension, the army was in a difficult situation, to put it mildly. If he ordered his army to come to him, we would have to march south while facing a vastly numerically superior force without him at our head. This was a prospect that none of us looked forward to, even men like Vibius. I know that the conduct of Labienus during this period was called into question by some, and despite the fact I think that he is a catamite who will be dining on his own blood along with all the other traitors to Caesar, I happen to know that his inactivity was enforced by Caesar himself. Events were happening much more rapidly than anyone could safely keep track of, and as much as Caesar trusted Labienus, he did not want to expose even a part of his army to such a fluid situation. One day we would march out of the gates thinking that we were going to subdue one tribe, only to face five that had decided to join together. Compounding our own difficulties was the fact that Drappes, a chief of the Senones, managed to muster a sizable band of cutthroats and bandits who preyed on the convoys that kept us in Agedincum fed. He was not always successful, yet he caused enough of a disruption to threaten the supply line should we go on the march. Therefore, we sat tight, watching events unfold, knowing that the eagles would be marching soon enough. Of course, the detractors of Caesar did not hesitate to grumble about his seeming inaction, and Vibius was one of the loudest, at least in my circle of friends.

“What’s he waiting for?” Vibius complained one evening when I came to spend time at their fire.

These were the times I missed most of all, but I could not be seen to favor one tent section over another, even if it was the one I came from. To counter any accusations of favoritism I worked out a system where I rotated spending time with each section a few moments every evening before trudging back to my tent and Zeno, who was always waiting to hand me reports to be filled out.

“He’s waiting until he can safely rejoin us,” I was a bit surprised that it was not I who uttered these words but Scribonius. Soon enough it became clear that Scribonius had taken on the role of defender of Caesar now that I was gone.

“More likely he’s waiting so that their army is so huge that when we beat them, he gets more glory,” Vibius grumbled, poking at the fire with a stick, causing sparks to fly in every direction and drawing the curses of his friends as they frantically beat out the embers before they caught something flammable. Ignoring this, Vibius continued, “It just doesn’t make any sense, keeping us in camp while all around us the world is falling to
cac
.”