by C. R. May
The helmsman, Alexandros, called her to him with a sharp jerk of his head as the crew flew back to their oars like frightened mice. The druid hastened to the steering platform and looked out. A small island lay off the beam and a long, low ship had emerged from cover there and was racing to head them off. The day was calm, without a whisper of wind, and Catumanda could see immediately that the Ksiphias had no chance of escape against the sleek rowboat. She could see that the kubernetes knew so too, and she recognised that the gods had turned her situation completely around; she was their only chance. ‘Put the helm over and head south. I need you to give me as long as you can before they come up.’
Jumping down from the platform she reached into a wooden pen and pulled out a kid by the scruff of its neck. The goat kicked and squirmed as the druid hurried back to the bows and drew her moon blade. As the crew exchanged fearful glances and made the sign to avert evil, Catumanda held the kid bodily over the side and mumbled an incantation to Manannan, great god of the sea. Her blade flashed and the animal cried its last, its kicks growing more feeble as its lifeblood ran in torrents into the blue waters below. Catumanda let the limp body fall with a splash as she turned back to the kubernetes. Despite the desperation of their situation the crew turned and looked across to the south, following the outstretched arm of their helmsman as his mouth formed a perfect circle in disbelief at what he saw there.
As she wiped the sacrificial blood from her hands onto the legs of her trews the druid called down the ship. ‘Looks and gasps of wonder will not save us if we cannot reach it in time. I suggest that you row for all you are worth.’
Fifteen
He found Brennus among the ruins of the town. As members of his clan quenched their thirst and celebrated the great victory Albiomaros led Solemis through the broken gates of Fidenae and into the main forum. The big man explained that the town had been a thriving Etruscan settlement until a few years previously, when it had been sacked by the Romans along with its nearby neighbour, Veii. The men of both cities had been slaughtered and the boys and females taken into slavery. Solemis nodded gravely as he listened. The power of Rome was spreading like a dark stain throughout the lands; they must be stopped before they reached the lands of the Senones. A cry of recognition cut the air, and he grinned as he made his way across to the smoke blackened building. ‘Congratulations on your victory, Brennus the Conqueror!’
The great man threw back his head, laughing as he slid from the edge of the table to spread his arms in welcome. ‘Solemis, what a day!’
The warriors gathered in the open space, pausing from their drinking and smiling happily as the chieftains embraced. It had been a great day. Brennus took a pace back and cocked a brow. ‘Caturix?’
‘Bruised and embarrassed, but alive. He fell from his horse and dislocated a shoulder, but a druid popped it back in.’
The corner of Solemis’ mouth turned up into a wry smile as a memory of the last of the Romans to cross the Tiberis flashed into his mind. The only Senone with an uninjured horse within a mile, he had been forced to look on helplessly as the Fabii and the last men under their command had formed themselves into an orderly column and carried their arms to the safety of the very same city of Veii, so recently the object of their hatred.
There had been a moment when he had been recognised by one of the brothers – Quintus, he thought – and the man had called Numerius across. The Roman had stared long and hard at him before turning to walk away, and Solemis had wondered at the intensity of the man’s hostility towards him. It seemed to have become more personal, more than the result of the humiliation that they had just inflicted on the army of Rome. Maybe he had suffered personally during his raids in the south. Solemis hoped so. The Roman had killed Crixos, after all – it would be some measure of vengeance for the deed.
Brennus flashed a grin as he broke into his thoughts. ‘That’s all of my chieftains alive then – that’s all the greatness I need from the day.’ He threw an arm around Solemis and guided him towards several wagons that had been pulled clear of their hiding places. A knot of warriors had gathered there as word had spread about the goods that they carried, and hungry men tore at loaves and cheeses as they swapped stories of the rout.
‘Roman supplies,’ Brennus explained with a wave of his hand. ‘Their drivers seemed anxious that we have them, so I let them go.’ He pointed out a wagon that had been set aside from the others. It was piled high with amphorae and casks of food, and the men set to guard it smiled happily as they approached. ‘I kept this wagon load for you and your boys. Take as much as you want and rest awhile.’
Solemis sighed. Despite the weariness of his body his mind remained sword-blade sharp, and he squinted at his chieftain as he repeated the most important words in his sentence. ‘Rest awhile?’
* * *
The strange sound grew as they plodded southwards until it came to resemble the buzzing of a great hive. As the mile markers counted down Solemis led the Horsetails clear of the low hills and out onto the plain. Halting Tantibus, he shifted in his saddle and looked once again on the walls of the great city. Low in the west the sun was an indistinct ball of flame as he waited for his clansmen to draw alongside him, and despite the euphoria of victory Solemis felt as weary as he had ever been in his life. He squirmed again and grimaced as he attempted to find a comfortable way to sit.
Albiomaros chuckled as he came up. ‘I know how you feel. How long have we been in the saddle today?’
Solemis threw him a pained look. They had left the army just as dawn had crept into the eastern sky, galloping south to scout the way ahead, and he shook his head in wonder as the images of the day flashed through his mind. The arrival of the Roman army and his narrow escape; the frantic dash to the battlefield and the fight on the ridge; the hectic chase to intercept the Fabii before they could slip through the net; the failure of the Crow attack. He rested his hand on his friend’s shoulder and pulled a tired smile as he answered truthfully. ‘Too long, genos.’
Several of the clan had accompanied them to Rome the previous autumn to demand compensation and justice for the death of Crixos, but for most of his clansmen it was their first glimpse of the fabled city and Solemis paused as they took in the grandeur of the place. Albiomaros raised his hand to shield his eyes from the glare of the sun. ‘It looks different without the crowds. The last time we were here the roads were full of wagons, horses and people.’
Solemis let his gaze drift absent-mindedly along the walls of Servian, and he suddenly shot bolt upright in the saddle. ‘And the gates were closed!’
His big friend looked at him incredulously as he guessed what his chieftain was contemplating. ‘You are joking, right?’
Solemis laughed and urged Tantibus forward as his startled clansmen whipped their mounts and funnelled in his wake. As the hills drew back and the River Tiberis began its great arc to the west the place which they knew to be called the Field of Mars opened up before them. Barely a mile stood between the Horsetails and the open gates of the city, and although the idea that it may be a trap flashed through his mind Solemis quickly discounted it. The Romans were leaderless, and he knew that the opportunity to seize the gate could be fleeting. Hurtling past the porticoed mausolea lining the roadway, the horsemen instinctively scanned the city walls for archers. Incredibly they appeared to be as deserted as the field, and Solemis only checked Tantibus’ mad dash as they entered the shadow cast by the great defences.
The Celts hunched behind their shields and hefted their lancea as the sound of hoof beats echoed back, the rhythmic clatter unnaturally loud in the silence that seemed to hang like a pall over the deserted entrance. Beyond the great opening Solemis could make out an open space, itself cast into deep shadow by the steep hill to the west. Further in, a wide thoroughfare lined by a collection of buildings of varying sizes and designs skirted the hill before cutting sharply to the right and becoming lost from view.
Reassured that the area was not thronging with vengeful Rom
ans Solemis whooped with joy and drove Tantibus through the portal and into the city. As the rest of his clan hastened in his wake and spread out into a defensive screen, Solemis quickly scanned the clearing for signs of opposition. A large stable lay off to the right adjoining a double-storied building that obviously housed the city guards, and a thrill ran through him as he realised that both appeared to be empty. Across the square the shuttered windows of shops and a taberna faced towards the gateway, jostling with each other to be the first to relieve weary travellers of as much coin as they could manage. To the left of the gateway itself a small shrine waited patiently to endow travellers with the protection of its resident goddess for a further small donation or sacrifice.
Satisfied that there would be no immediate opposition Solemis dismounted and began to plan their defence. ‘Berikos, take half a dozen men and make sure that the northern tower is clear, then cross the walkway and check out the southern. We don’t want any arrows to take us in the back as we work.’ He turned to Albiomaros as the clansman trotted away. ‘Genos, pull down the stables and form a barrier around the gateway.’ He paused and snorted. ‘Not too close though, we may get singed.’ As the clan champion narrowed his eyes at the remark and opened his mouth to question it, Solemis ignored him and continued. ‘Make it chest high if you can, with a platform running along the inner wall for us to stand on.’ Whatever the reason it was obviously important, and his query forgotten Albiomaros hastened away to do his chieftain’s bidding.
Their Umbrian allies made to follow but Solemis called them across, and the brothers exchanged a look as Solemis indicated that they step to one side. As his clansmen scattered about their tasks Solemis gripped the men by the shoulder. ‘Rodolfo, Brizio, I need you two to ride to Brennus and tell him what has happened here. Tell him that we control this gate, and to send as many men as he can to support us as soon as possible.’ Both men made to protest, but Solemis held up a hand and his look was enough to cut them short. ‘The Romans may be asleep at the moment but they will soon wake up when they realise that we are here. If we hold this gate, the city falls.’ He fixed them with an earnest stare as a small smile of affection curled at his lips. ‘You two are the finest riders among us, you are our best hope.’ He indicated the horses with a jerk of his head. ‘Take our mounts with you. If it comes to a fight, they will be ideal targets for the attackers. I have just witnessed the effect that wounded horses can have on a formation and I don’t want to risk that happening in such a small space. Besides,’ he concluded grimly, ‘I am going to set a fire, and they will be terrified. We will either lead our army into the city or we shall die here in the gateway – either way, wounded and terror-stricken horses will be of little use.’
The brothers nodded that they understood the finality of his decision and the importance of their ride. As they gathered the horses together and swung themselves up into the saddle the Horsetail warriors exchanged knowing looks as they continued to construct the barrier. A moment later the Umbrians clattered out through the gates and the sound of hoofbeats was replaced by that of the panicked city once again, adding urgency to their labours.
Tempted as he was to investigate the chaos that must be ensuing further within the great metropolis, Solemis knew that to split his meagre force would only invite their annihilation. A city this size would contain only the gods knew how many inhabitants, and many of those would have lost loved ones that day. Only a prepared defensive position could have any hope of withstanding an attack until the rest of the army arrived. Albiomaros deposited a heavy beam with a boom that resounded around the open space, and Solemis indicated that he follow him across to the great doorway. ‘Come and help me fire these. Even if we are overrun, the city will still fall to Brennus without gates to close against him.’
Great drifts of thatch from the dismantled stable roof lay scattered about the square and the pair gathered it in armfuls and stacked it against the open doors. As the last of the beams were stacked to form the barricade Solemis took his fire steel and struck it with the back edge of his knife. Heaped chest high beneath the archway the tinder-dry stalks caught immediately, and they danced back as the flames took hold and quickly spread.
Albiomaros cocked his head and shot his chieftain a look of amusement as the tongues of flame roared upwards to lick at the base of the timber walkway above. ‘Shall we get Berikos and the boys down, or do you plan to roast them too?’
Solemis cursed as he remembered the men he had sent to check for archers or other guards. As choking black smoke billowed into the warm evening air, he hastily called the men back down as the remainder of their clansmen hooted and called. It was none too soon – within moments the great gates and wooden walkways were a seething mass of flames.
* * *
Numerius could smell the smoke in the air before he could see the city and his body sagged a little more with the weight of guilt it shouldered. It had been his attack on the Gaul chieftain that had brought the ire of the barbarians down upon them all. Although he felt no sense of responsibility for the conduct of the army that day the initial spark that had lit the fires of war had undoubtedly been struck by him.
Breaking free of the western hills, Numerius paused his mount and stared out across the valley of the Tiberis towards Rome. One of the western gates was burning but, to his surprise, there was no sign of the Gauls. Ahead of him the tribune was shocked to see people abandoning the city, streaming across the Pons Sublicius and passing from sight beyond the hill of the Janiculum.
Numerius cocked his head and listened, but there was no sign of an approaching army. He well knew by now the haunting sound of the war horns that the Gauls called carnyx and the guttural cries of their warriors, but no sound reached him of their imminent approach, and he glanced up at the capitol and thanked mighty Jupiter for the delay. Away to the north a vast black cloud marked the point at which the armies had clashed, as vultures circled in the rising currents of air. The heat was finally coming off the day as the sun sank beyond the western hills, and the tribune frowned as he thought back on the humiliation they had suffered.
The men had jogged the few miles from the Tiberis to Veii without further mishap. Numerius had ridden at the head of a strong contingent of equites, sweeping around the rear of the column in case of interception by the powerful Gaulish horse warriors, but none had appeared. The tactical acumen shown by the centurion, Caedicius, had been impressive. The deployment of the tribulus had been a masterstroke to which he very likely owed his life and Numerius, as a military tribune, had felt confident enough in the man’s abilities to appoint him as commander of the Roman forces at Veii. As the men had set to work repairing the fortifications damaged during Camillus’ siege and storm of the city a few years previously, he had discussed their situation with his brothers. It had been agreed that Quintus and Caeso would each take half of the remaining equites and search for parties of Romans who had become detached from the army in the rout. None of them were aware of how many Romans had managed to retreat to their home city, and those left wandering the countryside would be easy pickings for the vast number of Gauls in the area. Defensible, well clear of the Gaulish line of march, and only a few miles from Rome herself, Veii offered the ideal gathering point for the scattered troops.
The road arced away across the plain and Numerius was soon riding alongside the river, the great walls of the city themselves lining its far bank. The heights of the Janiculum rose before him and, slowing his horse to a trot, he approached the mass of humanity as they spilled out from the bridge. He was pleased to see that a troop of soldiers had been stationed at the junction – it indicated that law and order still held within the city despite the disaster that had overtaken them all. He curbed his horse as he came up to them.
An exhausted looking spearman turned his way and Numerius, despite his weariness and the gravity of the situation, smiled inwardly as the man started at his sudden appearance. The soldier clenched his fist and saluted as Numerius leaned forward in the sa
ddle. ‘What is happening here?’
The soldier looked nonplussed and made a reply. ‘The people are fleeing to Caere, sir.’
It was Numerius’ turn to look bemused. Things must have been even worse than he thought if the entire city was being evacuated. ‘Is this by order of the senate? Where is the army?’
The soldier narrowed his eyes, but the tribune cut short any doubts he might entertain that he was completely in the dark about events that day. ‘Don’t say that they were defeated. I know, I was there.’
The soldier pulled himself upright. ‘I am aware of that, tribune. The Fabii have never shirked a battle.’
The reply drew the sting from Numerius’ temper and he nodded his appreciation for the man’s remark. A cry from the road caused the tribune to look across – a cart wheel had injured a child, and the carter and the boy’s parents were about to come to blows as people pushed and jostled to get past the obstruction. Numerius sighed. ‘You had best get back to your duty. I will find out the situation soon enough.’
The guard gave a weary nod, ambling across to restore order as Numerius forced his horse onto the bridge. Carts and wagons had largely blocked the span but he forced his way through, the presence of armed troops at each end of the span and his obvious high rank seeing him safely across.
It was a short distance from the bridge to the city gate, and Numerius was gratified to see that more troops had been placed at this strategic location. They used their spear shafts to push the multitude aside as he approached and soon he was back within the walls of the city. Steering his horse to one side Numerius sat and marvelled at the sight before him.
