Marius' Mules II: The Belgae (60 page)

“
What is he doing, sir?” asked Mutiatus at his shoulder. “Why
are they hiding weapons?”

Priscus
clenched his teeth.

“
Let’s ask him, eh?”

Mutiatus
nodded, and the two men crept as quietly as they could into the
doorway. It was a novel experience for the primus pilus to be
entering into a fight without several pounds of armour about his
person, and he flexed his muscles, enjoying the freedom of
movement. Mutiatus, with the physique of an acrobat, moved like a
cat.

The two men
crossed the threshold close together and then separated, each
moving to the side like the horns of a bull. The warrior finished
adjusting the blanket and stepped back to admire his handiwork.
Looking up, he noticed a human shadow cast in the flickering lamp
light and turned toward Priscus, opening his mouth to shout a
warning, just as Mutiatus dived on him, his hand going over the
warrior’s mouth as he slammed him to the floor, driving the breath
from his chest. Priscus grinned.

“
Now let’s go see Galronus and question this sack of
crap.”

As he turned,
his companion bashed the Aduatuci warrior’s head on the floor,
knocking him unconscious, and heaved the limp form onto his
muscular shoulders. Moments later, having checked the street was
clear, the two men with their burden crossed the road and entered
the building opposite. The Remi auxiliaries had the other Aduatuci
warrior on the floor and were busy binding and gagging him.

“
Galronus? Care to interrogate them?”

The man
nodded.

“
We interrogate, but not here. We go back. Safety. Take
both.”

Priscus nodded
and turned to Mutiatus.

“
We’ll have to use the smallest backstreets we can to get back
to the cliff, if we’re taking these two with us.”

Mutiatus
nodded, the unconscious warrior still draped across his
shoulder.

As Priscus
helped the two Remi sling the other captive over Elitovius’
shoulder, Mutiatus lifted the eyelid of his own burden.

“
Flat out. He’ll be gone for an hour or more, sir.”

“
Good. Then we can get them to the cliff and threaten to throw
them off.”

Mutiatus
grinned at him.

“
Let’s see,” Priscus said quietly, “exactly what sort of arms
they’re hiding here.”

“
We’ll check the street, sir” the legionary said.

As Mutiatus
and Elitovius moved toward the door with their unconscious and
bound prisoners, Galronus and Priscus crouched over the hidden
cache of arms behind the chair in the corner of the room. The
bundle contained mostly swords and axes, with a number of slings
and a bag of shot tied in along with them.

“
Whatever they’re planning, it’s got to be in the oppidum.”
Priscus frowned. “No bows, so it’s got to be close range, and no
spears, so not in open ground. I really don’t like the look of
this. Let’s…”

His head
suddenly snapped round at a commotion. Their two companions, along
with the prisoners, had stepped out into the street where clearly
someone had seen them. A shout went up in the Belgic tongue and the
call went from voice to voice. Priscus stared through the door at
the other two and Mutiatus made an urgent motion at him to run.

The primus
pilus snarled and turned to Galronus.

“
They’ve been seen. We’ve got to get away and warn the
army.”

Galronus
nodded. The sound of running feet was getting close outside and, as
he watched, Elitovius and Mutiatus dropped their burdens and drew
their swords. The legionary turned his head and nodded; the least
conspicuous salute he could manage, and then, roaring, he ran off
down the street with the Remi auxiliary at his side.

“
Shit!”

Priscus’ head
snapped back and forth as he tried to decide on a course of
action.

“
Can you find our way back?”

Galronus
nodded.

“
Think so.”

Priscus took a
deep breath, ran to the side wall, and threw himself
unceremoniously through a window. Galronus was hot on his tail and,
as the primus pilus picked himself up and disappeared toward the
backs of the houses, his Remi companion hit the earth, rolled and
came upright into a run.

At the rear of
the building, Priscus looked around desperately. There were several
other houses, some lit, some not, and he could see, not far away,
the burning torches on the top of the oppidum’s defensive wall.
They were surprisingly close to the main gate.

“
This way!”

He turned at
Galronus’ voice and raced away up the grass behind the houses.
Behind them, close to the central square, the commotion was now
audible over everything else. The Aduatuci were shouting; Guards
were calling to each other. Briefly there was a scream; just the
one, and Priscus found himself wondering which of their companions
got the worst of it: the one that had just died, or the one that
hadn’t?

After a few
minutes of running, Galronus slowed and came to a halt, breathing
heavily. Priscus almost bumped into him.

“
You lost?”

The Remi shook
his head and pointed.

“
Oh, shit.”

They were now
close to where they had entered the oppidum and, squinting, he
could see through the trees to where they had reached the top of
the roped climb. Torches danced through the velvet night over
there, blinking between the tree trunks.

“
No escape that way.”

He frowned at
Galronus.

“
I take it you’re not good enough to make the climb down
elsewhere?”

Galronus shook
his head.

“
Not in dark. Not without rope.”

Priscus
nodded. It would be stupid to try.

“
Then we’re trapped in the oppidum. We’re going to have to find
a place to hide and work something out in the morning.

Down on the
plain below, Fronto ran as though Pluto was breathing on his neck.
His initial worry as he heard Belgic voices atop the cliff had
become heart-stopping as the severed rope dropped to the ground by
him. He had been wondering whether it was worth waiting there just
in case when the Belgae had begun to drop rocks, speculatively, off
the edge.

Now, he just
had to get out of range of them and back to the Roman lines.
Priscus and Galronus had gone with no results to show for it and
the whole thing had been his damn idea. He would look like such an
idiot when he admitted this to Caesar.

He ran through
his head how he would approach the subject and then jerked, fell,
tumbled and rolled to a stop, unconscious and bleeding on the
grass. The rock that had caught him a glancing blow rolled to a
halt beside him, glinting burgundy in the moonlight.

Chapter 21

(Oppidum of
Aduatuca)

“
Mars Gravidus: an aspect of the Roman war god, ‘he who
precedes the army in battle’, was the God prayed to when an army
went to war.”

“
Ad aciem: military command essentially equivalent to ‘Battle
stations!’.”

Caesar stood
with Sabinus and Tetricus at the central gate in the defences and
rubbed his hands in satisfaction. Though Fronto had been on edge
and irritating as usual, there was something about his manner that
had impressed itself on the general. Though the Tenth’s legate had
disappeared in a huff, probably to imbibe alcohol until he could no
longer see straight, a sense of unease had settled on the general
ever since, and he had paced uncomfortably in his tent for some
time before sending for Tetricus and requesting that all efforts be
made to speed up the progress on the tower.

Indeed, he had
had a night of fitful dreams; nightmares of betrayal and failure
and, of all the dream fragments he remembered like polished shards
this morning, the one that had left him with the deepest sense of
grief was the tale his mind spun of Fronto dropping his sword to
the ground and walking away, with Fortuna in all her glory at his
shoulder.

But this
morning, Tetricus had been the general’s first visitor. The torches
had still blazed around Caesar’s tent where Ingenuus’ men remained
on guard, sizzling in the faint drizzle that had started some time
in the early hours, when the tribune knocked politely on the
doorframe.

The general,
renowned for his wakefulness even in the dead of night, was already
dressed and tapping irritably on a map of the oppidum and its
surroundings when he invited Tetricus in and the man had entered, a
satisfied smile on his face. The engineers had worked throughout
the night, drawing support from the rest of the legions and had
completed the bridge and enough armour plates to cover at least two
sides of the tower.

And now, as
the pale, watery sun rose over the horizon and the staff officers
stood watching in the fine rain, the tower began to move. The
plates had been affixed and the bridge raised and attached in less
than an hour, ladders being added for troop movement. The effect
was truly monstrous. In the bright sunlight, the tower would be
massive and powerful, but in this grey, misty drizzle, it also
gained a glinting oppressiveness that added to the effect. Even
Caesar, veteran of a great many campaigns and no stranger to the
great works of military engineers, found himself drawing an awed
breath.

Two cohorts,
drawn from the Eighth and attached to the engineers for the night,
hauled on the great ropes and slowly the tower rumbled forwards.
The sheer size and weight of the machine shook the earth, and the
ground vibrated beneath the officers’ feet as they watched.

Sabinus tapped
his finger to his lip, unable to tear his gaze from the great
tower.

“
Do we send a legion up the main slope as well, Caesar? Try to
divide their forces?”

The general
shook his head.

“
No, but we do threaten to. We move the Thirteenth into
position, below the walls but just out of range, and supply them
with siege weaponry. As we move the tower and the vineae against
the cliff, the Thirteenth put out calls and shuffle their men
around as though they’re preparing to attack. They may even have to
take the occasional shot with the artillery and run up and down the
slope as a testudo to keep the Aduatuci’s attention. I need them to
believe we’re going to attack on that front too.”

Sabinus
nodded.

“
Makes sense. Can I suggest that we have the Fourteenth begin
to cross the Meuse on their rafts too? The enemy might not believe
they’re really going to do anything but, if the men are in full
kit, they’ll have to divide their forces just in case. They can’t
take the risk we’re about to do something unexpected from across
the river.”

The general
smiled.

“
Yes, see to it. I…”

He stopped mid
conversation as the sound of horns cut through the air.

“
What’s that?”

Sabinus
shrugged.

“
Whatever it is, it’s coming from the oppidum. Do we go and
find out?”

Caesar nodded
and turned to the guards behind him, their commander present and
stiffly at attention.

“
Ingenuus? Have two turmae of the guard form up to escort us to
the oppidum.”

The young
officer saluted and began to bark orders to his men. The bleating
of the Belgic horns continued in the background and there was
clearly some activity on the walls. Sabinus sighed.

“
Looks like a call to parlay. Maybe we can end this peacefully
after all. Perhaps Fronto was wrong?”

Caesar
frowned.

“
Perhaps… perhaps not. I feel uneasy.” He drew a deep breath
and shrugged, as though shaking off a cloak of oppression.
“Regardless, let us go and see what the Aduatuci want.”

The two men
turned to see that Ingenuus already had two turmae of cavalry lined
up and ready to move, along with the two officers’ horses ready to
mount. Caesar swung himself into the saddle with practised ease as
Sabinus climbed onto his own steed. Then, with a quick glance round
to make sure all were present and correct, the general signalled
with a dropped hand and the mounted column moved off, past the
great, hulking tower and toward the slope of the oppidum.

The high walls
of the Aduatuci were well constructed, heavy and strong, with an
outer work of pointed stakes and pits. As they rode carefully
between the obstacles, Sabinus found himself hoping that the enemy
were about to cave in and that no assault would be required. The
Thirteenth legion would be thinned out like the culling of a herd
if they had to march up this slope.

He looked up
as they approached the first line of defensive works.

“
I think we should stop here, Caesar. They have bows, slings,
spears and rocks, so let’s be sure we’re out of range.”

The general
nodded and raised his hand to halt the column.

“
Sound thinking, Sabinus. Now, what do we have?”

The defences
of Aduatuca were punctuated with heavy, square towers, only a
little taller than the walls themselves, but strong and projecting
enough to make enfilade fire a possibility. The main gate of the
oppidum was flanked by two such towers and surmounted by a walkway.
The gates themselves were enormous, constructed apparently of
shaped tree trunks bound with iron. Inordinately strong for a
Celtic town, Sabinus considered, but then again, Aduatuca had walls
on only one side, relying on cliffs elsewhere.

On the walkway
above the gate standards waved with tapering streamers, and men
with huge bronze horns shaped like wolf mouths blew tuneless tunes.
Men in glinting armour and helms watched the officers and their
guard approach and, as Caesar’s column halted, one of their number
stepped out forwards.