Marius' Mules II: The Belgae (25 page)

Varus slapped
him on the shoulder. “Take yours and three of the auxiliary alae.
That enough?”

“
More than enough” agreed Lucilius through gritted
teeth.

Varus
nodded.

“
Then I’ve got to take the rest back to camp and warn Caesar.
He’ll not have time to mobilise the legions. Sabinus is going to
have to defend the bloody bridge on his own!”

Without
bothering to give orders, Varus wheeled his horse and began to
charge, hooves thundering, back the way they’d come. As he passed
the cavalry, his troopers stared in surprise at their commander
storming past with an expression of great concern. Moments later,
their prefects returned.

Lucilius
gestured to several decurions and then pointed off to his left.

“
You lot! Form up your units over there. We’ve got a few
thousand Belgae to maim.”

As the
selected units hurried to move their units into position, Casco,
prefect of the Ninth, waved his arm expansively at the rest of the
cavalry and then pointed to the retreating figure of Varus.

“
Back to camp at a charge. We’ve an army to save!”

Chapter 9

(Caesar’s camp
by the Aisne River.)

“
Gaesatus: a spearman, usually a mercenary of Gallic
origin.”

Fronto rushed
from his tent at the alarm call blared out by the command cornicen.
Struggling with his cloak for a moment, he gave up in annoyance and
let the crimson article drop to the grass outside the tent flap,
leaving it waving in the breeze. As he ran to the general’s
headquarters tent, he saw the other legates and officers rushing to
the rallying point. As he reached the patch of grass outside the
tent at the same time as Crispus, he bent double and clutched his
knees, breathing heavily.

“
What the… hell’s happened?”

As he glanced
around, taking everything in, he noticed two horses tethered by the
tent flap.

“
Varus is back? What happened to the cavalry?”

Crispus
shrugged, also taking in ragged breaths.

“
I’ve no idea, Fronto.”

As Balbus came
to a halt beside them and Labienus appeared, pink-cheeked with the
effort of running, the general suddenly threw back the leather tent
flap and stepped out into the sunlight with Varus at his
shoulder.

“
Gentlemen, form up your legions. Galba? I want the Twelfth to
take command here and man the defences. Several alae of cavalry
should be returning to join you shortly.”

He took a deep
breath.

“
The rest of you, get your troops moving back to the bridge at
the quickest march you can manage. The Belgae have apparently found
a fordable crossing point and come round behind us during the
night. Sabinus is about to be attacked at any moment by a force of
probably a hundred and fifty thousand Belgae on the other side of
the river.”

Fronto
blinked.

“
The sly bastards! How long have we got?”

Varus stepped
forward.

“
It’s been maybe a half hour since we saw them, and they were
less than an hour away then.”

“
We’ll never get the legions there in time, Caesar” the legate
spat. “Even if we drop everything but weapons and run, we’d be
lucky to get to the river in time, but it’ll take hours to get the
men across that bridge too. The legions simply can’t get there in
time.”

Varus
nodded.

“
He’s right, Caesar. We should send a dispatch to Sabinus and
tell him to get out of there as fast as he can. We’ll have to
follow the Belgae and bring them to battle somewhere
else.”

“
No!”

The force of
Caesar’s tone surprised them. The general had gone pale and his
teeth ground together.

“
No. It’s critical that we stop them here. My plans are being
changed for me, and I won’t have that. I can’t leave this place
right now and if we let them loose they have free reign with the
Remi; they can burn their crops and attack and loot their
settlements. What use Fronto’s hard work getting the Remi on our
side if we let them go now?”

A thought
seemed to strike the general and he smiled at his legate.

“
Fronto.”

“
Sir?”

“
Think you can repeat your Bibrax triumph back at the main camp
today?”

Fronto
frowned.

“
You mean take the missile troops and actually engage a huge
army of Belgae with them? There were maybe thirty thousand Belgae
there. There’s five times as many here! Respectfully, only a mad
arsehole would try it!”

Caesar smiled
a lop-sided smile.

“
Well?” he prompted.

A grin slowly
slid across Fronto’s face.

“
I’ll need more men this time. There’s a lot more
Belgae.”

Caesar
nodded.

“
Get every light auxiliary unit from every legion. All the
archers, slingers and spear throwers. They’re all unarmoured light
troops.” He addressed the assembled legates in front of
him.

“
Go now and get all your light auxiliaries to form up on the
plain as fast as you can.”

Another
thought seemed to strike him as the legates turned to head back to
their legions.

“
Labienus? You take temporary command of the Eighth. Balbus? I
want you to go with Fronto and take command of the Thirteenth and
Fourteenth in the camp. They could be useful.”

Balbus nodded,
though worry darkened his eyes. Fronto could understand that. They
were about to take two untried legions and the lightest of the
auxilia into battle against a foe that would seriously outnumber
them.”

The general
turned back to Fronto.

“
Get there as fast as possible and engage them, Fronto. You
don’t have to defeat them; just hold them there until the rest of
the legions can engage.”

Varus cleared
his throat.

“
Caesar? The cavalry can get there in time to help as well.
Permission to accompany Fronto and his men?”

The general
nodded.

“
Very well, Varus.”

He regarded
the three commanders in front of him.

“
The bridge would slow the rest of the legions too much, but if
the Belgae can find another way, so can we. I shall take the
Eighth, Ninth, Tenth and Eleventh as fast as we can along the river
to the east. If a hundred thousand barbarians can ford it in a few
hours, the legions should be quicker. You three keep them busy at
the bridge and we will come round behind them and seal off their
escape route. Once we have them trapped between us, I think things
will quickly go our way.”

Fronto nodded.
A quick glance and he could see how quickly and efficiently the
Roman commanders had organised their legions. The main forces were
already forming up. The light auxiliary units were being rushed out
to the side, where they were gathering in a much looser formation,
waiting for their commander.

Caesar
smiled.

“
Good luck gentlemen. I shall see you on the south
bank.”

The three
officers saluted and, as the general strode off toward the
regulars, Fronto turned to Varus and Balbus.

“
Varus: collect your cavalry and break speed records in getting
to Sabinus. Tell him we’re on the way and not to do anything
stupid! Balbus? You’d best take a horse and get to the fort. You’ll
need to tell Plancus what’s happening a few times until it sinks in
and then start the legions moving across the bridge as soon as you
can. We’ll need all of you on the other side of the water where
it’s flat; it’s the only terrain legionaries and cavalry can
operate safely in.”

Varus grinned.
As Caesar’s cavalry commander, he was aware that he theoretically
outranked all the legionary legates but, for some reason, if felt
natural to be ordered around by Fronto. The man had a talent for
leadership. When he shouted, even the senate would stand to and
obey.

“
My pleasure. See you at the fort.”

Fronto turned
to Balbus.

“
Be careful with them. We don’t know how well prepared they are
for real battle.”

Balbus
smiled.

“
It’s about time they got the chance to find out. Hurry along
now, Fronto. You’ll have to catch us up quickly.”

As Varus and
Balbus rushed off to find a horse for the legate and rejoin the
cavalry, Fronto sighed. He was legate of the Tenth Legion, and here
he was, deep in the campaigning season and he’d hardly spent any
time with the Tenth at all. Priscus was itching to get involved in
a fight, but all he got to do was the day to day tasks of legionary
command. Fronto, on the other hand, was about to undertake his
second hard fight of the season, commanding auxiliary troops only.
He regarded the force gathering nearby and smiled. Fortunately,
promotions and transfers had been delayed in the current
circumstances, so at least he knew he was fighting alongside good
men.

As the units
were formed up, he quickly ran back to his tent and grabbed his
sword, shield and helmet. He stopped for a second and looked down
at the red cloak lying outside the door. He’d ignored it and run
across the fine material with muddy, hob-nailed boots twice. He
smiled sadly at the messy item. What was it with him and cloaks?
Jamming the helm on his head, he started to jog down to the
gathering units.

There were
perhaps three or four thousand men there altogether. Mostly
Numidians, either armed with short bows or spears, along with the
familiar Cretan archers and the deadly Balearic slingers. Much like
the force he had at Bibrax, but more than three times the size.

“
Decius!”

The prefect
turned and grinned as Fronto bounded up the gentle incline towards
him.

“
D’you know, when I was told all the auxiliary foot troops were
being called to service, I had a feeling I’d see you shortly,
sir!”

Fronto
laughed.

“
You remember those Belgae we fought off? Well now we get to
kick them and all their mates around a bit.”

He squared his
shoulders and straightened his sword by his side before addressing
the force gathered around him.

“
Senior officers to me!”

A dozen or so
prefects rushed out of the press of men and came to attention at
the front, saluting. Fronto noted the knowing looks on the faces of
Galeo and Pansa. What was this reputation he seemed to have
acquired?

“
Men? We’re about to go into action alongside the Thirteenth
and Fourteenth legions and the Cavalry against more Belgae than you
can wave a shitty stick at. I need to see the same kind of strength
and bravery I saw at Bibrax. But we need to run to get there in
time to save Sabinus and his men.”

He took a deep
breath.

“
So no dawdling! Prefects? Get your units back to the main camp
at a run and form up above the river.”

The officers
in front of him saluted and started bellowing commands at their
men. Fronto watched as the lightly-armed and completely unarmoured
men began to move off at a steady jog toward the south. As the
nearest unit of Cretans started to run, Fronto sprinted alongside
and fell in next to their prefect.

“
Enjoying life in the limelight, Decius?”

Momentarily,
he concentrated on the turf in front of him as he felt that
familiar twinge in his ankle. Damn it. Almost two decades of
fighting with the legions and he’d sustained no lasting injuries.
Then one bloody fight last year and he gets bitten in the ankle by
a mad German woman and almost hamstrung. That ankle had never been
quite right since. He became aware that Decius had replied while he
concentrated on the ground. Ah well. At least his nose felt good
these days.

“
I’ll need brilliant ideas from you lot before we engage. The
way I reckon it, there’s going to be a hundred and fifty thousand
mad, bloodthirsty Belgae on the other side of the river, and all
we’ve got will be a couple of thousand veteran legionaries under
Sabinus, ten thousand green, untried legionaries under Balbus and
Plancus, maybe five thousand cavalry under Varus, and three
thousand missile troops. That’s… what? Twenty thousand against a
hundred and fifty? Slightly unnerving odds, eh?”

Decius grinned
as he stared off into the distance.

“
Maybe, but we’ve got fortified defences, a narrow bridge to
defend and the height of the northern bank for
advantage.”

He turned his
grin on Fronto.

“
And, of course, we’ve got us!”

Laughing, the
two men ran on alongside the Cretans with their bows.

* * * * *

By the time
Fronto reached the camp, standing on the high ground and
overlooking the bridge and Sabinus’ fort, the action had clearly
already begun. In this lofty position, Fronto swallowed hard as he
viewed a disaster of epic proportions in the making.

Sabinus had
his cohorts secure yet trapped behind the walls of the small but
defensive fort. There was no hope of him being able to sally forth
and do any damage at this time, as the near side of the fort was
bounded by the river, quick flowing and the darkness of the water
suggesting dangerous depths. The other three sides were being
assailed at close range by a veritable sea of shouting Belgae.
There were, indeed, so many barbarian warriors that the observers
had to look carefully to make out the fort walls under the press of
bodies. The rearguard force that Sabinus had been left with fought
desperately over their defences, stabbing and slashing madly at
anyone they could reach. In Fronto’s professional opinion, Sabinus’
force would be gone in half an hour and the fort left as kindling.
From the look of things, the Belgae had moved faster than Varus had
expected. They must have been here before the other Romans
arrived.