The Fall of Veii- Part 1

by Francis Mulhern

  “If I am addressing an augur and not the great king of Veii I will stand, a Roman ambassador kneels before no ordinary man” he said loud and clear, his voice rising as he turned to face the old man who was now smiling at him. “The proof is there” he said throwing the scroll to the floor “the prisoners died after making their confessions. I put it to you that you harbour our enemies from the Volsci and you aide them in their attacks on our convoys. I also put it to you that...”

  Again, the soothsayer spoke over Lucius, his voice low enough to be heard but also infuriatingly calm. “We understand the prisoners were killed by Roman hands. Murdered by assassins whilst in their bonds.” He shook his head at these words, a murmur coming from the senate behind Lucius. Lucius frowned, he had been played well by the clever soothsayer, his calmness giving him a sense of authority which Lucius had lost as soon as he stood. Taking a deep breath, he regained his composure before speaking.

  “You are well informed” he said with a smile, his voice lowering and his mind racing. “Such things happen in war” he said as he glanced to the bored looking king before continuing. “It is our legal right under the treaty to ask such questions of our ‘friends’ and it is legally binding for you to answer truthfully. Such things are as it should be.” He turned back to the king, who dropped his head to avoid eye contact and picked up the snake as if suddenly interested in the fine detail of the carving along its back. “We ask the questions under a vow of peace and under the candle of the gods. We await your reply.” Lucius took a step back and Ambustus stood and moved next to him, their bodies rigid as if they had said their final words.

  The soothsayer stepped forwards and poured himself a goblet of wine from the jug on the table, sipping the white liquid and smiling. Ambustus twitched at the breaking of custom and lack of respect shown by the man, his narrowed eyes and broad smile clearly cajoling the Romans into some kind of action. After taking another sip, in which the silence grew and the tension in the room became almost unbearable, he spoke again.

  “This” he said, kicking the scroll with the outside of his foot “is of no consequence. It means nothing without the men to accuse us standing here and proving they are from the city. Also” he added as he placed the goblet down and turned his face to the men of Veii “there is no case for us to answer to if you cannot control the bandits who raid your Roman roads because you are too weak or too arrogant to keep them away from your lands. You Romans grow fatter on your conquests and your schemes to conquer all the Latin delta. How do we know that this isn’t just a scheme set up by your warlords to break the peace to which we have adhered for so many years? How do we know that you are truly the peaceful ambassadors you say you are?” He stared at Lucius as if expecting an answer to his questions, his head cocked to one side slightly as he frowned at both men for a moment.

  “As Apollo, Mars and Justitia are my witness, under the vows of the treaty, the people of Rome have borne no arms or treachery to your people” Lucius said his voice low and respectful.

  The soothsayer looked to his king, who flashed a smile before replacing it quickly with the impassive face he had worn throughout the conversation.

  “You turn up at our door with stories of treachery and deceit, claiming that our people are attacking your armies. Yet you bring no proof that we can use to help us to make a decision. You bring tales of woe, how your armies are attacked by small raiding parties” he shrugged. “I cannot understand why a few men would attack a full marching army. Tell me Roman, why would this happen? You say we are loaning troops to the enemies of Rome. Painted shields” he looked around the room with a grin, his arms rising as he circled the room with his eyes, his teeth visible as his wide grin split his face. “Painted by any number of farmers who have had a bad harvest and need money so turn to banditry. Everything you say leads us to conclude that Rome is looking for reasons to remove the treaty and start to wage war against our lands. Here” he pointed to the candle “the candlelight burns strong every day and has never gone out. What reasons do you really hold for your coming to our city, Roman? Is it to challenge our hold on lands to the north so that you can feed your expanding population? Tell us, Roman, what you want from us.”

  Lucius took a slow breath and turned to the king, addressing him directly. “Great king of the mighty city of Veii. Tell me that this man speaks your words and I will respond. If not I demand, under the terms of the treaty, to discuss the issues we have in private.” He finished with a look of anger at the soothsayer, who simply smiled back at him as if he had paid him a compliment.

  The king took a deep breath and let out a heavy sigh. He glanced at the senate around him and then back to the two Romans stood below his dais. His eyes suggested he was thinking through what to say, but no words came from his mouth as he looked, again, at the gold and silver snake in his hands.

  “A poor debate” the king said, his voice high and lofty as he pursed his lips, the bottom lip extending as his left shoulder lifted into a quick shrug. “I expected more from what I hear is such a fine orator and general” he added, his eyes narrowing as he looked at Lucius. “And you Fabius Ambustus” he glanced at the stocky soldier “the first man to charge his Eques into a phalanx of soldiers.” He made a laughing sound as he said the words. “Such stories of glory you Romans dream up as you conquer all the little towns and cities surrounding us. We wondered when you would start” he added as he lifted the snake to the light. “This is pretty” he said “but is no gift for a king” he said as he stared at Lucius, his eyes boring into him as his jaw stiffened. “Here” he said, throwing the snake to Ambustus “you keep it. I want nothing from Rome. We have done none of the things you claim and I have no more to say to you. Take them out of my sight” he said as he stood from his throne and moved away to the right to leave the room. As he stepped from the dais his long red robes brushed the box holding the candle, which teetered before falling forwards, the wax of the candle spilling onto the flagstones as a loud gasp came from one of the senators behind Lucius. The candle fell from its housing and rolled to Lucius’ feet, the candle flame stopping with a dark wisp of smoke coming from the wick as the red light extinguished. Lucius looked from the candle to the soothsayer and smiled.

  “It would appear that the gods have spoken” he said as he turned on his heel and stalked from the building, a smiling Ambustus following at his heel.

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  Chapter 23

  “Here and here” Potitus said, moving a troop of wooden horses to the side of the wooden fort Marcus used to display the city of Ferentium, its walls surrounded by stones and dirt to portray the layout and contours of the ground. “These are the best places to locate an attack as the ground is level and will not obstruct the machines” he said with a nod of approval to the table on which the scene was set.

  “The main attack points will be here” he moved a wooden block with a carved phalanx of men to face the left-hand corner of the city “and here” he moved another to the right of the main gates. “The cliffs here are impenetrable and this area” he placed a thin stone across a hand-smoothed area of sand “is too marshy from the river to get a good foothold, we would be slaughtered attempting to cross the area.”

  Marcus appraised the layout and could see the logic of the assault pattern. “Calvus?” he asked, startling the man stood two places to his left. “What do you think? Is this sufficient?” Calvus grimaced at the scene and stepped a little closer to the table as two other officers moved out of his way to allow him access. “Assuming the assault plan remains as you discussed I think this cover position from those tower things” he looked at Potitus with a grin “is the key to getting close enough to the walls to get over them and open the gate. Whatever happens we need the gate open.” He paused as he held one of the wooden horse figurines in his hand and looked back to Potitus. “Explain how these things work again please Potitus. I need to be clear on the way that they will support the foot soldie
rs before I fully agree.”

  Potitus nodded. Rome had never used siege warfare properly, preferring the full-scale attack or to call the enemy out into a set-piece battle. Over the years, many of their enemies had simply locked themselves in their cities and sat back to await the summer campaigning months to end and the soldiers from Rome to return to their own city. Since discussing options with Marcus on how to support the attack and how to neutralise the threats of the archers and slingers on their vantage positions on the walls Potitus had come up with a tower, some twenty feet high on which two men could stand and use either bows or even a Scorpion. He had set to work designing the tower and had used Marcus and Scipio, who seemed to have a canny ability to see the problems with every design, to redevelop the machine before he committed some of his newly formed engineers (some craftsmen and carpenters from various units) to create the structure. The structures were nearing the stage at which the wooden ladders could be added to the frame of the tower and Potitus had felt the same thrill he had gained when creating the Scorpions from Marcus’s original design.

  Potitus took a handful of sand and spread it on a clear space on the table, smoothing it over as he spoke. “The walls are here and fifteen feet high” he drew a picture to represent the walls, with an archer crudely shaped on the parapet. “If we attack here” he drew a few men rushing forwards “then we would expect to lose men at all points until the wall.” He smoothed the sand over again, leaving only the picture of the walls and its defenders intact. “But if we place a tower here” he drew the twenty-foot-tall structure “and give covering fire,” he drew an arrow, “then the defenders are in a vulnerable position if they stay upright to defend the wall. This allows the men to get closer and place the ladders, whilst also supporting them from above with our own arrows, so that they can get up onto that parapet” he said.

  All the officers nodded at the logic of the idea.

  “I’ve never seen anything like it” said Calvus as he looked to Potitus with a measure of respect in his eyes.

  “The Tribune gave me the idea” said Potitus unassumingly. “All I did was turn his thoughts into something we can use” he smiled.

  “Will it work though?” asked Regillensis who had offered to lead the attack on the walls, his face earnest as he knew the chances of failure for a wall attack were high but the glory of success for the officer in charge could outweigh the danger.

  Potitus looked to Marcus, who shrugged. “We won’t know until we try” he added “though I must say the idea of covering fire to support the attack will go down well with the men.”

  Calvus clicked his tongue as he clenched his teeth. “Fire arrows?” he said as a thought came to his mind “Will they cause problems?”

  “Yes, Scipio thought the same so I’ve added some water buckets to the tower and have two men assigned to douse the wood with water if they attack with fire” he said, his brow creasing at the thought. “Maybe we need more water close to the towers though just in case” he tapped his chin with his finger as he nodded at thoughts running through his mind.

  “How long until the time is up?” Marcus asked, breaking the momentary silence that had come to the campaign tent in which the men stood.

  Regillensis walked to the tent entrance and looked up at the sky. “Within the hour” he called back as Marcus glanced at the men around him.

  “Men, prepare your soldiers for the assault, you have your orders. Scipio and I will attend the main gate to see if they have decided to surrender. When they decline we will roll up the assault towers and once they are in position we will start the attack. Three waves as planned. If repulsed, we will fall back and review the strategy.” He looked at the nodding faces of the officers with pride. “Has Fasculus come back yet? He asked nobody in particular, to which the reply was in the negative. “Then let’s get ourselves prepared gentlemen, we have a city to take.

  ****

  Fasculus stood looking up at the short climb to the city above him, the steep rocks smooth and showing no obvious hand-holds. He’d crossed the surprisingly deep stream and reached the rocks below the city with ease, but, as he had expected, there was no easy way into the city from this location. He shook his head as he stared, shielding his eyes from the strength of the sun, at the walls above him. The city wasn’t on a high plateau, but the rocky cliff at this side gave it a clearly defendable position which didn’t seem able to be attacked, the distance from his standing position to the top of the wall was probably seventy or eighty feet. Marcus had asked him to scout the rear of the walls for any opportunities which they could use to approach the city from anything but the front elevation, but so far, he had found none. He shifted his sword across his hip as he stepped onto the lower rocks and looked around for tell-tale signs of any entrances or access point being used by the people of Ferentium. Again, there were none, no secret trail, not hand holds worn away over years of scaling the wall to meet a secret lover. He grinned at the thought as a call came from above him, he’d been spotted. Turning he raced to the river’s edge, hoping it was far enough away from arrow fall as he heard the unmistakable twang of bow strings. Without glancing back, he reached the water and stopped, turning to see what was happening on the walls. He could still see the bucket and wheel at the top of the wall, used to bring fish or rocks or other goods into the city by this back wall, but so far, he saw no other way in. An arrow slapped into the ground ten yards from him so he stepped back, up to his shins in the water, as he craned his neck to search the wall for any other openings. Nothing. The lifting gear might be able to hold a man’s weight but it would be a painfully slow process to drop men over the wall by rope if they wished to attack the Roman’s rear. Still, he’d better inform Camillus that he needed a couple of guards in this area just in case, he thought as he waded into the cold water and headed back to his horse standing munching the thick grass on the other side of the stream.

  ****

  “Surely the gods favour us” asked Ambustus as he and Lucius mounted their horses at the gates of Veii, his eyes roving the surrounding area for points of weakness as Lucius had asked him to do before they entered the city.

  “It is clear to me that they do” Lucius replied loudly as the guards looked to each other nervously. The news of the candle falling at the slightest nudge by the king’s robe had spread rapidly and the soldiers of Veii were already apprehensive as the Romans left the city.

  “Be gone” called the soothsayer, his beard blowing in the strong gust as the gate opened, a dusty hue spreading quickly into the inner space of the city entrance.

  “This city is safe from Roman desires; the old prophecy will keep us safe from any mortal act” he said cryptically as Lucius furrowed his brow in reply. Just as he was about to ask what the old man was talking about a soldier stepped forward and slapped his horse’s rump with the flat of his sword, sending the animal into a springing leap at which Lucius gripped the reins strongly and leant forwards lest he get catapulted off its back. A great laugh came from the guards as the horse bolted out through the open gate, quickly followed by the angry shouts of Ambustus as he chased after his commander.

  ****

  Fasculus had reported his findings to Marcus and was disgruntled to find that he had to choose two men to return with him to guard the rear of the city. Despite his protestations Marcus had simply ordered him to return to the site within the hour. As he sat stuffing bread into his mouth and grumbling his displeasure he suddenly thought of a way to deal with another of his problems, a wide grin coming to his face. “Ha” he chuckled to himself at the thought. It wouldn’t be popular, but he decided he needed to do it. Standing he walked directly to the Tribunes tent and asked for a moment with Camillus. On entering Marcus looked up from a deep discussion on the Scorpions with Potitus and waved Fasculus over to the table.

  “Yes Centurion” he said, giving Fasculus his old title despite the fact that he held no rank in this small force.

  “I have decided to take Felix from the third
cohort with me” he stated as he saluted and looked away into the corner of the tent, a curl coming to his lips as he continued “and Mella” he said quickly, glancing at Marcus to gauge his response.

  “Mella” replied Marcus and Potitus at the same time, both men turning with quizzical faces to Fasculus.

  “Good man, Mella” he replied. “Good soldier, good in a scrap and has good eyes. He would be useful, Sir” he finished, his eyes returning to the top corner of the tent as he watched his senior officers look to each other with frowns across their faces from the corner of his vision. He coughed “if I could have the order slip please, Sir” he stated, clicking his heels together in his best Centurion stance.

  “Very well” said Marcus. “But Fasculus, if I hear you and Mella have been causing problems I will have you busted back to latrine duties for a month” he added, a half smile coming to his lips.

  “It’s just that it’s about time we had the space to talk to each other, sir, that’s all. And as I say he’s a good soldier” he added as he stiffened his neck and looked up again into the corner of the tent.

  Marcus grinned and wrote something into a wax tablet, pressing his ring into the wax before sealing the order. “Just don’t kill each other, save that for the enemy” he said as he handed the tablet across.

  “Yes Sir” came the stout reply.

  ****

  The sun had descended across the middle of the sky, the heat already dropping from the noon of the day as Marcus and Scipio stepped up to the space in front of the gates of Ferentium, just out of arrow range. In his hand Marcus held the small javelin which he would use to declare war on the city should they decide they did not wish to surrender to his forces.

  A man appeared above the gates, his dark hair cut short and as much of his leather armour as they could see was covered in bronze bravery discs, awards from many previous battles. Scipio nodded approvingly at the man.