The Fall of Veii- Part 1

by Francis Mulhern

  Almost before he could take a step Marcus had launched himself into a two step action, blocking the swinging arm and punched his sword into Rutilius’ side, the blade passing through the leather with a slight kick before Marcus leant his body into the motion, his shoulder rolling to allow him to drag the blade from the strike and prepare for the second blow.

  Rutilius screamed as his sword fell from his hand, the blade reverberating as it skittered along the floor and came to a stop as the man fell to his knees.

  “You’re all the same” screamed Rutilius as he looked up at Marcus, gripping his side and looking at the blood that leaked from his body. His eyes flicked to the side as Marcus saw a movement from his right, the small frame striding into the gap between the two men as Megellus, his eyes cold and vacant hacked his sword into the neck of Rutilius, the ornate blade of his father glinting in the morning sunlight as it arced momentarily into the soft flesh of the grinning man, his smile his last act of defiance.

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  Chapter 30

  Marcus heard the crying of the women before he could comprehend the second swing of Megellus’s sword, the blade slicing into the back of Rutilius’ head with a dull ringing sound as the blade slipped off the skull and hit the floor.

  “Hold” he said to Megellus as the boy looked to him, his face betraying no emotions as he turned to Marcus. “He is dead, return to your mother, I will find the others” Marcus said to the small framed boy as he turned and called to a soldier who had just hacked the hand from a hooded assailant, the man falling to the floor as a second soldier stuck his spear into the man’s torso, the screaming continuing as his blood flowed on to the dust covered floor. Without any response, Megellus bent forwards and wiped the blade on the dead man’s clothes and turned to walk away as Marcus frowned at the boy as he moved.

  “Camillus” said the soldier.

  “Let’s find them” Marcus said. “Where is Regillensis?” he asked, scanning the rostra for faces he knew as men milled about, some with swords drawn, others visibly shaken by the sudden violence in their home city.

  “He went down there after the prisoner Tolero” pointed another soldier who had appeared, his blood covered sword testament to the fighting he had done.

  “Then let’s follow him.”

  The three men raced across the Curia, the remaining crowds splitting as they approached, some pointing and waving at the direction the fugitives had gone, others cowering as the soldiers ran past. The men had headed towards the Caelian Hill, no doubt in an attempt to use the lower valley between the Palatine and Esquiline as an escape route. The road past the entrance way to the Temple of Jupiter was away to their right up a short steep slope and Marcus wondered if they would use this slope to double back and head for the river. As he ran he looked to the soldier to his left.

  “Name soldier” he stated.

  “Maximus” the said as he loped along, his easy stride showing his fitness.

  “If it were me I would skirt the Temple of Jupiter and head back to the river. What would you do?” he asked as he continued to pound the street, faces peering out of alleyways as men shouted encouragement and pointed along the road. After a moment Maximus looked to Marcus.

  “It would make sense” he said, visibly slowing as he turned to look at Marcus. “This road could lead to the Sisters Beam or to the flat lands beyond, but beyond that is open farmland. I would look to escape to the river and head downstream” he finished as the two men came to a standstill, the third soldier coming to stop behind them as he leant his hands on his thighs and sucked in deep lungfuls of air.

  “Then that is what we will do” Marcus said with conviction as he turned to the labouring soldier. “You” he said, his smile warm but his mind telling him that this soldier needed extra fitness duties. “Return to the Curia and find Calvus. Tell him Marcus Furius Camillus needs ten men at the Pons Sublicius as soon as he can get there” he finished as the man saluted and turned to run heavily back in the direction from which they had come.

  “Sir, this way” said Maximus “I know a short cut.”

  ****

  Marcus stood and looked at the bridge, the water higher than usual at this time of year as the sudden rains had followed the dry months, the water cascading down in dirty brown torrents and churning against the hulls of the small skips that moored along the sidings.

  He scoured the boats looking for signs of movement, but nothing came to his vision.

  “See anything?” he asked Maximus as the man shook his head and replied in the negative. “Let’s go to the bridge and see if it gives us a better view” he added as the two men strode purposefully to the wooden bridge which spanned the Tiber. People looked at them, swords drawn, some scurrying away, others standing and wondering what was happening as the story of the attacks in the Curia had not yet reached the river.

  Two men appeared around a corner carrying a fishing net, the long bundles of cord over their shoulders. Marcus whirled towards the movement, the first man calling in alarm as he saw the two soldiers, the one with the blue cloak with gritted teeth and death in his eyes. With a wave of his sword Marcus called them forwards, “carry on” he said as he turned his head to the left and looked at another movement along the docks near the road to the Forum Boarium. A man had appeared and looked at them, his steps halting momentarily as he glanced to them and then continued on his way. The movement caused Marcus to focus on him, his head held low as he walked towards a deep hulled boat on which another man suddenly appeared, his hand rising in a greeting as Marcus became suspicious.

  “There” Marcus said. “That man has a hood on his cloak at the back. Let’s go and check him out” he said, striding forwards as the man glanced towards him again. As the two soldiers stepped towards the new arrival the man on the boat saw the movement and called to the figure in front of him, the man raising his arms as if in exasperation before turning and calling loudly towards the alleyway from which he had appeared. Three figures suddenly exploded from the gap between the buildings, their hoods still over their heads followed by a fourth, the ambling figure of Tolero, clearly worn out by the run to the docks after a night in the Tullianum and the fight in the Curia.

  Two of the men stopped and looked to Marcus and Maximus as they picked up their speed and charged towards them, the taller of the two removing his hood as Tolero too stopped and stared at the approaching soldiers. Bassano stared back at Marcus, his eyes full of sorrow yet a determined look on his face.

  “Hold Camillus” Bassano said, raising his right hand as the man on the boat called for them to climb aboard quickly.

  Marcus ran across and stopped ten yards from the gang of fugitives, Tolero holding his side where he had been cut but grinning at the excitement of the chase despite his obvious pain.

  “Let us go Camillus” said Bassano, his voice steady and with a resolute edge. “Postumius was no friend to Rome or its people. He got what he deserved” he said in a matter of fact tone.

  Marcus shook his head as Maximus stepped forwards, his muscles tensing in his sword arm. “No Bassano. What you have done is wrong. The gods and the people of Rome will not allow me to let you go. Murdering Postumius was wrong and what you have done is inexcusable” he replied coldly.

  A moment of silence passed as the two groups of men looked to each other before Bassano looked to Tolero and smiled. “Old friend” he said, “it seems we have no choice.” He looked up, several men appearing behind Marcus and Maximus as a look of fear came to his face, the voice of Calvus clear in the still air of the morning as he called his arrival. Marcus turned and held up his arm for Calvus to wait as the men approached at a run.

  “Bastards” Tolero spat, a large drop of blood covered phlegm hitting the ground in front of Maxmius’ foot. “I’m done for anyway” Tolero added, his hand coming away from his side to reveal a large rent which bled out more of his life force as he winced at the movement.

  “Y
ou men, go” called Bassano quickly to the hooded figures behind them as he pushed at a man who stepped forwards with his sword out. “No, go. It is us they want” Bassano said as he looked to see Calvus and his soldiers fifty yards away but striding forwards purposefully. “Go now, they will not catch you” he said as the men behind him turned and ran, the noise of their feet pounding away disappearing to shouts from Calvus and his men.

  “We cannot yield Camillus” replied Bassano. “As you Patricians would say” he grinned “Nulla Spes” and he turned to the smiling face of Tolero, the two men instantly gripping the other’s shoulder with their free hand and with a nod pulling their swords into the gap between them. Marcus put his hand to Maximus as he stepped forwards unsure if the motion was aggressive, though Marcus understood at once what the two old friends were going to do.

  Tolero laughed as he pulled Bassano towards him, Bassano grinning back as the two men thrust their swords into the body of the other and the metal protruded upwards through their backs, each man slapping the shoulder of the other and grunting with the pain of the strike. Marcus watched as the blood ran along the blades as if trying to get back into the bodies from which it had come, before both men wavered for a second, and then fell to the floor.

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  Chapter 31

  Ten days had passed since the death of Postumius and Marcus had seen his brother elevated to Military Tribune once again, leading the soldiers off to Veii amongst great cheers from the crowds along the streets of Rome. Lucius had spoken to Marcus before leaving and discussed tactics for the attacks, asking Marcus to join him as a junior tribune, to which he had declined, saying that he wished to await the birth of his child before he set out on a campaign again.

  The news from Veii was that the walls were stronger than the Romans had envisaged and Marcus sat in the forum awaiting the news from the Senate meeting which had been called to discuss the latest failed attempts to breech the stronghold of the Veientines. Marcus sat with his sandals off his feet as the warm afternoon sun beat down upon Narcius and Mella, the three men eating a cold meat lunch.

  “They can’t possibly leave an army to stand at Veii” Mella said with a shake of his head. “I know that the campaigning season is close to an end, but leaving men to stand outside the city will cause problems at home. Who will feed their animals? Who will reap the fields and sow the crops for next year? It can’t be done” he said as he sipped a cup of lemon flavoured water that Marcus had brought with them. Narcius grunted agreement, his eyes watching the doors to the Temple of Saturnus where the Senate were meeting.

  “It seems to me” Marcus said as he wiped his mouth with a small cloth “that we have no choice” he shrugged as he spoke. “If we leave the city over the winter it will store more food and water and receive additional support from their allies, by next season it will be more difficult to attack and defeat the city. In fact” he added as he sat forwards and scratched his lower leg “to my mind we need a bigger standing army, one which will be able to stop any new reserves entering the city and one which can also hold against any attacks from” he frowned as he considered the allies of the Veientines “the Capenates or even the Labici” he said.

  “They are too cowardly to attack us” Mella said with a huff as Narcius smiled at him.

  “Oh no” replied Marcus. “Mark my words Mella, they still have a part to play in this war. They know that if Veii falls they will have no support against our troops. For the Capenates this is a critical time. Same for the Labici and Volsci” he added with a knowing nod as Narcius waved a hand as the doors to the temple slowly opened.

  All three men stood, as did a great deal of the crowd which had gathered outside the Temple to await the judgement of the elders of Rome.

  Servilius Ahala stepped from the doorway, his eyes looking into the crowds who stepped forwards to hear his words as he raised his hands for them to await the remaining Senators’ appearance. He caught Marcus’s eyes and nodded, his face smiling as he held out a sealed pouch and raised it to the crowd, a great murmur rising from the assembled Romans as they edged closer to their leaders. More Senators shuffled forwards, many in deep conversations as they edged onto the steps around the temple, guards and soldiers ringing the lowest steps to keep the crowd at bay. After a few moments Ahala turned to the crowd and held the pouch aloft, the red-dye of the leather bright in the daylight.

  “People of Rome” he said, a silence falling round the forum as his gaze wandered across the many faces staring expectantly to him. “We, your leaders, have discussed the issue of Veii” he said, a small cheer coming from some of the crowd who were instantly hushed by the larger portion of the assembly.

  “We have agreed that our army will lay siege to the city of Veii throughout the winter.” As he spoke a great number of people set to mumbling and asking questions as he waved his arms for silence, most of the crowd edging forwards. Marcus took a deep breath as he thought through the words he had spoken to the Senate that very morning, his argument to pay the soldiers who were stationed at Veii still going through his mind. A number of Senators had argued against him, but many had agreed it was a good solution to the problem of the farmer-soldiers who made up the ranks of the army. Marcus had been ushered from the Senate meeting once his argument had been given, the Senators would decide in private, they had said. Ahala glanced to Marcus with a smile as he raised the pouch again and shook his head at the calls from the crowd, who were finally falling silent as he stood in silence awaiting their focus.

  “This pouch contains the agreement” he said as he raised the pouch higher and watched a few thousand heads move in unison with his arm. “The argument was strongly put by Marcus Furius Camillus to pay those soldiers who would stay in-situ at Veii a living wage from the Republican purse” he said with a nod towards Marcus as a number of heads turned to see Marcus standing to their left, a few cheers of “Camillus” echoing off the walls of the buildings and shops around the forum.

  “And it has been agreed that Veii is a worthy enemy and must be treated differently to those of other campaigns. Their walls are strong, their resolve is strong and their hearts are strong” he continued. “But they do not have the gods supporting them” Ahala cried as he thrust the red pouch higher in the air and a tumultuous cheer rang out across the forum, the guards moving forwards as the ranks of men pushed towards their leaders as they cheered.

  “People of Rome, calm yourselves” cried Ahala, his voice loud but still drowned by the cheering crowd, some calling prayers to Mars and others waving their arms as they began to shift and edge forwards.

  Marcus marvelled at the people of Rome, so easily led to jubilation and excitement. Ahala, master of the crowds that he was, simply stood and held the red pouch in the air waiting for silence as the people hushed and cajoled their fellows into stillness. As the calm fell he gazed out into the throng and smiled. “We, your Senators, have agreed to pay the soldiers” he said, holding his arm aloft to stop the cheers as they started but were cut off with hushing sounds. “We have also agreed to the creation of new taxes to support the war, taxes to be shared equally among all the people” he called more loudly as a few cat calls came from the crowd. “The Senate has also agreed to your champion” he said these words with a measure of hostility picked up instantly by Marcus as he flicked a glance to Marcus Manlius, his white toga resplendent in the sunshine “to support your wishes as a Senator of Rome” he said with finality as Manlius stepped forwards to a spattering of applause and cheers from some of the crowd, but some of the faces clearly not too sure that Manlius was the right man for the job.

  Marcus watched Calvus and the two plebeian tribunes as they politely clapped Manlius, whose face showed how much he was enjoying the elevation to the Senatorial ranks. Calvus flicked his eyes to Marcus and smiled a cool smile at him before returning his gaze to Ahala, who was beckoning for silence as he ushered Manlius back into the ranks of Senators, the man clearl
y enjoying the attention too much for Ahala’s liking. “We have asked the favour of the gods and they have agreed” he said, turning to the right as Marcus’s uncle the Pontifex Maximus strode forwards, his distinctive robes with the mantle covering his head and the elaborate iron knife of his office in his right hand.

  In his deep voice, trained over many years of reading sacrifices and divining the will of the gods the Pontifex Maximus held his iron knife in the air and spoke. “We the people of Rome are beloved of the gods” he said as a silence fell over the crowd, no-one daring to speak over the great priest. “Jupiter Maximus has spoken” he called, his covered head bowed “and the divine readings state that Rome will prevail.”

  At this Marcus thought of his own augury at the camp of Rufus, the suggestion of war and eventual victory by Rome. He looked back at his uncle as he turned to Ahala and spoke again “Senators the gods favour your actions” he said theatrically as the crowd roared its approval, a great stamping of feet coming from the assembled thousands as the Senators stood and welcomed the cheers.