Marius' Mules II: The Belgae (37 page)

Fronto grinned
at his second in command.

“
Alright. That’s an end to it. We’re his army, after
all.”

They turned to
look ahead once more and Fronto’s suspicion was confirmed. Four of
he party of five riders wore the accoutrements of senior noblemen,
their gold and bronze torcs and jewellery marking them as extremely
wealthy. The fifth, Fronto noted with surprise, and a little
suspicion, wore a dark grey robe belted at the waist with a great
flax belt, intricately woven. He wore no jewellery, but his long
hair and braided beard were as black as his eyes, colouring that
Fronto had not yet seen among these northern tribes. The man
carried a staff whose tip was carved into the shape of a
dragon.

“
Druid!” whispered Priscus with indrawn breath. “This could be
trouble.”

The sound of
hoof beats drew their attention and Caesar, Sabinus and Labienus
arrived from their position further back.

“
What can you see, Fronto?”

“
Looks like four chieftains and a druid, general. No
guards.”

“
Curious.” Caesar turned and frowned down at Fronto. “I like my
legates to look important. You should be on horseback.”

Fronto
shrugged; he hated riding on marches. It wasn’t that he felt guilty
particularly, though that was a part of it. More it was that he was
not that good a horseman, and found it quite difficult to make the
beast walk at the same pace as the legions.

“
The jarring hurts my head, Caesar. Wounded,
remember?”

The general’s
face darkened momentarily as he was reminded of Paetus’ treachery
and subsequent violence and disappearance.

“
Very well, but at least stand straight. This could be
important.”

The officers
tidied themselves subtly as they waited for the five riders to
close with them. Finally they did so and Fronto noted with interest
how the four chiefs came abreast and bowed slightly to Caesar,
while the druid stayed apart and sat glowering haughtily.

“
Gentlemen” Caesar said clearly, “I presume you are the
chieftains of the Ambiani?”

The druid
nodded, his mouth turned down at the corners with a sour
expression.

“
They are. They do not speak Latin, so I am here to translate
before I leave this place.”

Caesar opened
his mouth to speak and then glared sharply at Fronto as the legate
interrupted.

“
You’re not staying around, your druid-iness?”

“
The Ambiani have abandoned their pride and so I abandon the
Ambiani. And I have no wish to spend any more time than necessary
with the men who shamed my brother Divitiacus…”

Caesar
started.

“
Your brother?”

“
My brother druid.”

Fronto turned
to stare at Priscus, whose face was an equal mask of surprise.

“
Divitiacus is chief of the Aedui?” Fronto said,
unsurely.

“
Chieftain and druid. A man usually of vision, though by
putting his trust in you, I fear his vision has abandoned him. Yet
now you have forsaken him and he will return to the old ways, I
hope. This is immaterial. I am not here to pass the time of day
with you, Romans. Let my companions speak, and then I can
leave.”

Caesar frowned
for a long moment and then nodded.

There was a
brief, slightly heated exchange in their own language between the
chiefs and the druid, and then the dark eyed man sat high in his
saddle.

“
My lords the leaders and kings of the Ambiani wish to submit
their land, their kin and all of their goods to the will of Caesar
to do with as he sees fit, in the hope that the general will show
them mercy and kindness and look upon them not as enemy or victim,
but as friend and ally.”

The man almost
spat the last words, the bitterness clear in his mannerisms.

“
For myself, I expect nothing of the sort. I hear of what you
did to the Bellovaci. Our pride is greater than yours, as, I
believe, are our morals.”

Caesar
sighed.

“
I understand your distrust and even your hatred. Druids are an
insular and distrustful group. But I mean no harm to any who will
join me in making these lands a safer place.”

He ignored the
sneer on the Druid’s face and Priscus was extremely grateful the
general was facing away and couldn’t see the look on Fronto’s.

“
However,” the general went on, “I do not believe that you are
an appropriate spokesperson or translator for these chiefs as you
do not have their interests at heart. We have men of the Belgae
with us who can translate.”

He turned and
addressed Labienus.

“
Ask Galronus of the Remi to join us, will you?”

Labienus rode
off down the column and Caesar turned once more to the druid.

“
You can consider yourself relieved of your task, or honour, or
obligation, or whatever it is that keeps you here with the
chieftains. Go wherever it is you wish to go and I hope that we
never meet again.”

“
I echo your hope.”

The druid
explained the situation quickly to the chiefs, gave the Roman
column one long, hard, look and wheeled his horse to ride off.
There was a pause for a few minutes, during which the four Ambiani
looked unsure and regularly turned to see the lone figure riding
away down the valley. Fronto turned to Priscus.

“
Druids and chieftains arguing and splitting up? I can’t decide
whether that’s a good thing or a bad one…”

Priscus
grumbled.

“
Bad. That means he’s going somewhere where they still hate us
to stir them up.”

The two men
fell into a thoughtful silence until, a moment later, the familiar
figure of Galronus cantered to a halt beside the commanders. He
exchanged brief words with the four chiefs and they nodded.

“
Good, Caesar. Chiefs know who I am. I translate for
you.”

The general
nodded.

“
Thank you. Firstly, please inform the Ambiani that I am
grateful for their offer. I accept peace with them and accordingly
would like to extend them the same terms as we came to with the
Remi. That they defy their own druids to join us is an honour and
deserves to be treated as such.”

Galronus
smiled and nodded, turning to repeat Caesar’s words in the guttural
language of the Belgae. As the four men listened, Fronto noticed a
sag of relief among them. They had been unsure of Caesar’s reaction
and genuinely frightened for their people. Once again, Fronto
wondered what Caesar had done to press so much fear into the
Belgae.

The chieftains
gabbled something in reply, and Galronus turned to Caesar.

“
Ambiani very grateful for Rome’s friend. They want agree all
terms. They meet in council chamber this evening with officers to
arrange details.”

Caesar
nodded.

“
However, before we settle the legions for the night, I need to
know the lay of the land, so that I can best decide how to proceed
when we leave Samarobriva. What can they tell us of the surrounding
tribes?”

Again,
Galronus translated, and the four men entered into a deep, involved
conversation for several minutes as the Roman officers stood
patiently, watching the exchange.

“
Chiefs say” the Remi leader replied finally, “land east of
here Viromandui land, but not just Viromandui there. They say big
force east of here. In Viromandui land is army of them and Nervii.
You get to east of Ambiani land and lesser chiefs there have more
knowledge of Nervii.”

Caesar
frowned.

“
The Nervii? So soon? I thought we would be able to forge more
alliances and consolidate our hold before we had to face
them.”

Galronus shook
his head.

“
Nervii come south for Romans into land of
Viromandui.”

“
What can you tell me of the Nervii?”

Galronus
shrugged.

“
Nervii hate Romans. Nervii hate Germans and Gauls.” He
laughed. “Nervii hate Belgae… Nervii hate everybody.”

“
So we’ll not find anyone willing to treat with us to the
north?”

Again the Remi
noble shook his head.

“
Nervii not trade with Gauls or Romans. No wagons go there.
Nervii not accept foods or drinks. No wine or even beer among
Nervii. They say luxury make men weak…”

“
Sacred Bacchus” Fronto exclaimed to Priscus, but loudly enough
to be heard by the staff. “We’ve come a thousand miles north only
to find the bloody Spartans!”

There was a
chorus of stifled laughs among the front ranks of the Tenth Legion
and Fronto instantly regretted his outburst as the General gave
them all a sharp look. Ah well. Let the men laugh now. Sounds like
they wouldn’t be laughing when they met the Nervii.

“
Nervii already condemn all Belgae for joining Rome. They
threaten to kill any Belgae warrior who not fight Rome. You never
speak to Nervii, Caesar. When you meet them, you fight.”

Fronto nodded,
more soberly this time. On the bright side, that sounded better: a
straight fight. No political wheedling, no pretence, and no sieges;
just two armies in a sea of grass, battering each other repeatedly
until one was dead. A test of military might.

Caesar turned
to the staff.

“
Make temporary camp, gentlemen. Tonight we thrash out alliance
details with the Ambiani, but tomorrow we march to meet the
Nervii.”

He became
aware suddenly that the front ranks of the Tenth were listening
intently. The general had almost forgotten the ordinary soldiers
were there, and that would never do. One must always play to the
crowd if one wanted to leave the arena a hero. He jacked his voice
up a notch.

“
We will take Roman law and power to the Nervii and, when we
have defeated them, Rome will acknowledge us heroes and all the
lands from the Mare Nostrum to the coast of Britannia will call us
either ally or master!”

A cheer went
up from the Tenth. You had to hand it to the sly old bastard… he
knew how to work an audience. Only a couple of hundred men of the
First Cohort in the Tenth would have heard that, but the word would
pass and by nightfall his speech would be replaying in the mind of
every soldier on the plain. And the bugger had been devious enough
to include the phrase ‘ally or master’, both mollifying the Aedui
and Remi in the column, and reminding them of the importance of
their alliance.

The coming
days would be interesting ones.

* * * * *

The legions
had been on the move again for three more days, continuing
eastward, through Ambiani territory and ever deeper into
Viromandui lands. The scouts had been circling ahead of the
column throughout the journey and what had begun as a positive,
adventurous undertaking had now settled into the lull and quiet of
an army that, having lost the initial impetus and lust for battle,
was now settling into thousands of private worries about the coming
conflict and the danger it brought.

Fronto shaded
his eyes to stare once again out to the front. Somewhere out there,
a hundred thousand Belgae were waiting to make minced meat of any
Roman that came within reach.

A shape swam
into focus. No… several shapes. On horseback.

Fronto frowned
for a second and then held up his hand to halt the column. He
turned to the six tribunes marching along behind him. They looked
generally unhappy about being relegated to traipsing along without
their horses but, as Tetricus had pointed out to the rest of them,
if Fronto was on foot, it would make them look lazy and feeble if
they were to ride. Tetricus raised an eyebrow.

“
Something up, sir?”

“
Get word back to Caesar and the staff. Riders
approaching.”

The tribune
nodded and turned to Priscus. Oh, he could run alongside the column
and find the staff, but there was nothing in the world that moved
faster than word of mouth. He told Priscus, who told his lead man,
who passed the word back, and so on, through hundreds of lines of
men until it reached the optio at the rear of the legion, who
approached Caesar and, saluting, informed the general of the
approach. By the time Tetricus could have reached the staff, Caesar
and his closest consorts were already slowing as they reached the
vanguard.

There was a
tense moment as they waited for the riders to come fully into view.
And when they did, relief swept over many a man. Three of Caesar’s
outriders with a native on a fourth horse. As they reined in, the
general addressed them in a clear voice.

“
What news?”

One of the
scouts, a member of the Remi serving under Varus’ auxiliary units,
saluted and spoke in clear, though accented, Latin.

“
This man is one of the Ambiani. He is wounded and was fleeing,
sir. He is from a village on the banks of the Selle
River.”

Caesar
shrugged.

“
Yes?”

“
The Selle is about ten miles north, Caesar. Not a wide or deep
river, but it’s the border of Ambiani lands. But,
Caesar…”

“
What?” demanded the general irritably.

“
He says the Nervii are on the north bank awaiting
us.”

Caesar
frowned.

“
Did he say how many?

The man
shrugged.

“
I tried to ask him sir, but all he said was ‘all of them’. And
not just the Nervii. He says he saw the standards of the Atrebates
and the Viromandui and several small local tribes." He said there
are too many to count. Like a field of wheat.”