Marius' Mules II: The Belgae (19 page)

Fronto sighed.
He was in danger of getting very angry and bitter once again over
Caesar’s lack of concern. One day he would snap. Admittedly, it
would be Fronto who ended up being sent back to his sister in an
urn if that was the case, but there were days when…

Decius nudged
him.

“
I don’t know what you’re thinking, but you’re making people
nervous with that grimace. And you didn’t finish your
sentence.”

The legate
shook his head.

“
Sorry. Where was I? Ah yes, Iccius. Lack of sleep, you
see.”

He sighed and
squared his shoulders.

“
Iccius will pass the word of what we’ve done for him among his
people. And it might put a bit of fear into the enemy too. All in
all, I think the benefits of what we did here today are tangible.
And of course, most important of all, we lived to tell the
tale!”

He sighed
again.

“
By rights we should get our gear stowed now and get underway
back to camp.”

He noted with
humour the tired and crestfallen expressions of his officers.

“
But we can move a lot faster than an army that size. Besides,
they’ve got to meet up with the rest of their people before they
move on Caesar. We’ve got time and I, personally, need a
rest.”

He smiled at
Iccius and mimed drinking from a mug. The chieftain laughed and
shouted something to one of his spear bearers.

“
Besides… I believe Pansa spilled all their drinking water, so
we’ll have to rely on their beer instead.”

He noted with
genuine humour the look of distaste that crossed Pansa’s face.

“
Yes,” Fronto smiled, “I’ve never acquired a taste for the
stuff myself either, but Crispus, the legate of the Eleventh, is
quite a fan. He can even work out where it’s been brewed by the
taste, or so he says. To me it always tastes like it’s been brewed
in a sock.”

Next to him,
Decius laughed.

“
Frankly, I don’t care,” added Galeo. “If it’s alcoholic, I’ll
drink it.”

“
Well said.”

The four
Romans walked towards the beckoning leader of the oppidum.

The moon rose
high over Bibrax, now partially denuded of trees, and over the
plain below, littered with the refuse of an army long gone.
Everything looked so peaceful, particularly through the thin veil
of drunkenness. The other Roman officers had long since collapsed
into a stupor and would regret their activity in the morning.
Fronto had, for better or worse, a cast-iron stomach and the
alcohol tolerance of a marble quarry, and was now nicely hazy after
a solid six hours of celebrating. The only Roman who had stayed
with him was Decius, something of a prodigious drinker himself, it
appeared. The prefect yawned and dangled his bare feet off the
wall’s edge.

“
It might sound a bit weird, sir, but I think I might be a bit
sorry to go back to the army.”

Fronto laughed
drunkenly.

“
For the sake of all that’s good, stop calling me sir. Even
Galeo stopped eventually. We’re both officers and patricians. When
there are no ‘miles’ around, I think you can safely use my
name.”

A pause
ensued.

“
Anyway,” he said suddenly, startling his companion, “how come
you ended up as a prefect of a minor auxiliary unit? Your family’s
got to be better off than mine, and probably more popular, given
that I’m as popular in political circles as a turd in a city
bathhouse.”

Decius
laughed.

“
I have a nasty habit of speaking my mind. Get’s you in
trouble, that kind of thing.”

Fronto’s turn
to laugh.

“
You have no idea…”

“
Well the problem is that I served in the Seventh from the
outset. It was good in the early days. But then early last year
before all this started we got assigned Crassus as a legate. Now I
know he’s one of the leading lights of Rome and all that, and I
suppose I don’t really want to talk out of turn, but…”

“
But the man is an arsehole of the highest order. Yes, I’ve
noticed. But if you’re in the Seventh, why aren’t you out west with
him getting massacred by angry Gauls?”

Decius
chuckled.

“
Well I inadvertently mentioned something about his ancestors
having evolved from goats. He demanded I resign my commission in
his legion and return to Rome. But legate Balbus was looking for
men to take on his auxiliary units at the time. So I accepted a
demotion. I left the Seventh and all my glory and honour to come
live with a bunch of Greek hunters in the Eighth.”

Fronto
frowned.

“
That’s a hell of a pay cut.”

“
As you mentioned, my family’s not poor. I just need to stay
away from home at the moment. My wife’s just had her third baby and
her mother’s living with us.”

Fronto
laughed.

“
Shouldn’t you be back bringing up your child,
though?”

“
I don’t think you heard me, Fronto. I’ve been in Gaul for a
year and a half, and my wife’s having her third baby…”

“
Oh.”

Fronto looked
down at his feet.

“
Sorry.”

“
Don’t be. When I do one day get back to Rome, I shall make it
a very messy and public divorce and I shall get rid of her and her
harpy of a mother in one fell swoop.”

Fronto tried
not to laugh as Decius mimed a swoop with his hand, and the effort
and momentum caused him to topple over sideways. He failed.

“
I think I should have a word with Balbus. You need to be in a
more commanding position than this. I imagine he can find room for
another tribune.”

“
Thanks. Now where’s that beer. I need to drink ‘til I’ve
forgotten about Vespilla and her harpy mother again.”

Chapter 7

(Caesar’s camp
by the Aisne River.)

“
Laconicum: the steam room or sauna in a Roman bath
house.”

A cheer went
up among the men of the Tenth as their legate, dirty, limping and
dishevelled, plodded through the wooden gate of the enormous camp.
Behind him came the various auxiliary units, elated by their
victory at Bibrax, but weary and largely suffering on account of
bad heads. The linen tunics of the archers and slingers were
stained brown and grey, and the Roman prefects who led them marched
in traditional fashion, but with a stiffness and tiredness to their
gait.

Fronto smiled
at the men at the gate and returned their salute. He wondered how
these auxiliary missile troops felt about being cheered by
professional, well-trained legionaries. It must be odd for them. He
smiled again to himself. As far as most of the army would be
concerned, Fronto and his officers had pulled off an impossible
task.

Standing by an
armaments cache on the main via, Priscus, the primus pilus of the
Tenth, laughed and folded his arms.

“
Fortuna certainly kisses your arse, sir.”

Fronto
grinned.

“
Priscus, you have no idea. I am Fortuna’s servant. I make her
luck!”

He threw up
his arm to halt the advance of his column.

“
I’m going to take the prefects to headquarters. Can you have
somewhere set aside for these units to relax and stand down?” He
smiled wearily. “Oh, and send someone to Cita and requisition some
good wine for them all. They bloody well deserve it, and it’ll wash
the taste of Bibrax’s nasty beer out of their mouths.”

Priscus raised
an eyebrow.

“
Could cause resentment in the legions, sir, if you show such
favour to non-citizens? No one’s giving our lads any
wine.”

Fronto
shrugged.

“
They may not be citizens, but they just fought hard and well
for Rome. Get the wine. If anyone complains, I’ll deal with it
personally.”

Priscus nodded
and beckoned to a couple of legionaries standing at attention
nearby. While he relayed the appropriate orders, Fronto turned to
look back along his column, formed up four-abreast.

“
Decius, Galeo and Pansa. Follow me.”

He stepped out
ahead of the column and turned as the three officers made their way
from the bulk of their men and converged on the legate.

“
Sir?”

Fronto smiled
wearily.

“
I’m going for debriefing with the general. You three gentlemen
were instrumental in our success yesterday and I want to make sure
Caesar knows that, so I want you all to accompany me.”

The three men
shared surprised glances, but nodded respectfully.

“
Shouldn’t we clean up a bit before seeing Caesar?” asked
Pansa, indicating his drab and dirty red tunic, torn in several
places and with stains that may now be permanent.

Behind him,
Priscus laughed.

“
Caesar’s used to seeing the legate looking like that. It’ll
come as no surprise, I’m sure.”

Fronto shot an
irritated glance at his second-in-command and then turned back to
the three prefects.

“
Right now, you look like you’ve just fought a nasty action.
You look like victorious soldiers. If you get smartened up, you’ll
not stand out quite so much.”

Without
waiting further, he turned and started marching up toward the
command block in the centre of the camp. The legions had done a
tremendous job in his absence. The bridge across the Aisne was
strong and wide enough for two carts; a camp protected the far side
with a palisaded annexe that contained all the supplies and supply
wagons that constantly rolled across the countryside back and forth
to keep the legions fed. Very efficient, but nothing quite as
impressive as this fort.

Tetricus had
constructed on this hill above the river a camp of traditional
rectangular shape, but the dimensions and the fortifications were
breathtaking. Once or twice in his career, Fronto had come across a
camp big enough to accommodate two, or even three, legions, but
this was on another scale entirely. A single camp large enough to
hold the bulk of seven legions, plus all their auxiliary units,
cavalry and artillery. It was almost mind-blowing to see. The four
men had walked fully ten minutes from the gate before they came to
the edge of the principia: more than a dozen campaign tents, with
Caesar’s great headquarters at the centre.

The general’s
guard maintained their perimeter and stepped forward to challenge
the four scruffy men approaching.

“
State your name and purpose!”

“
Gods,” Fronto laughed, “Ingenuus has you lot on form, doesn’t
he? Legate Marcus Falerius Fronto of the Tenth Legion, accompanied
by three auxiliary prefects, to see the general.”

The two men
before him saluted and one turned and ran off into the principia.
The other remained at attention.

“
If you would just bear with us while we inform the
general?”

Fronto nodded
and the four men stood, kicking idly at the dried mud and few
surviving tufts of grass on the ground. After almost a minute, the
guard returned and beckoned, escorting them into the general’s
tent.

As they
entered, pausing to allow their eyes to become accustomed to the
gloom, Caesar rose from his seat behind the table.

“
It is good to see you alive, Fronto. I was starting to worry.
Last night I poured a libation on the altar of Mars and asked him
to bring you back unharmed.”

Fronto sighed
wearily.

“
With respect, general, it wasn’t Mars that did it. It was us;
myself, the three officers behind me and their men.”

Caesar
blinked.

“
Did it? Did what?”

Fronto
smiled.

“
Brought you the Remi, safe and sound. Bibrax stands firm. In
fact yesterday it stood firm amid a sea of Belgae around thirty
thousand strong.”

The general
was clearly astonished.

“
You succeeded? I had assumed you harried the enemy and pulled
out? You actually succeeded?”

Fronto
nodded.

“
Not only that, but you remember those chieftains we met back
at Durocorteron? Iccius and Antebogus or something?”

“
Antebrogius” corrected the general absently.

“
Yes, well it turns out that Bibrax was Iccius’ village. Good
job we did go, eh?”

The general’s
eyes flashed momentarily at the barely-veiled note of accusation in
the legate’s tone.

“
Then you gentlemen did me a great service.”

Fronto
nodded.

“
At the very least I’d say these three need seriously looking
at for decoration and promotion.”

Caesar nodded
thoughtfully.

“
Identify yourselves, gentlemen.”

“
Titus Decius Quadratus, auxiliary prefect of the
Eighth.”

Decius saluted
wearily. As he stepped back into line, the next man stepped
forward.

“
Servius Galeo, auxiliary prefect of the Eleventh.”

Another step
forward.

“
Vibius Pansa, auxiliary prefect of the Twelfth.”

Caesar smiled
benignly. Fronto knew that smile and how the general had perfected
it such that it looked so genuine.

“
Well, gentlemen. We’ll have to see what we can do for you
all.”

Fronto
nodded.

“
However, that may have to wait. That’s the other thing. On the
way back here, we skirted round the edge of the Belgae. All of
them. Judging by the relaxed atmosphere in the camp, I presume
you’re not aware of them?”