by C K Ruppelt
“You’re in for a surprise then. Vatinius proposed to add old Celer’s province of Gallia Transalpina to my other two yesterday, and the Senate voted and confirmed it.” He grinned when he saw the raised eyebrows. He and Crassus had planned for his future governorship the moment his election as consul was confirmed. Part of that plan had included the relocation of three of his old Hispania legions to Aquileia in northern Italia. His loyal Tenth had been slated to move for Narbo Martius in Gallia Transalpina by the last administration. And now even the Tenth is mine again, a gift from the gods.
“I imagine I’ll spend most of my time in Aquileia since that’s the most centrally located of the three provincial capitals.” At least at the beginning. It’s the perfect starting point for my dream of conquering the free Dalmatian tribes and the rich kingdom of Dacia.
“And you will be going with him?” Cicero asked Cinna.
“Of course,” Cinna answered with a grin, “and some other mutual friends like Aulus Hirtius and Lucius Cornelius Balbus will come along as well.”
Hirtius will be handy to raise more legions for me before sending them all east to get me more spoils. Caesar was tired of his financial dire straits. It had started after Sulla came back to town, now so long ago that it felt like he had been in debt his whole life.
Pomponia cut through all his thoughts. “Here are our other guests, all arriving at the same time.” She walked out of the room and opened her arms in warm welcome. “And here is our star of the evening! Welcome to our home, dear Calpurnia. You look lovely.” After a quick hug and broad smiles for everybody else, she brought her guests into the triclinium.
Caesar stepped back from the doorway, eyes fixed on the young woman that entered. Calpurnia was tall and slender, and looked mature for her seventeen years. She wore a large brown palla, the traditional Roman women’s five-foot by eleven-foot shawl, wrapped around her as a cloak to completely cover her figure and her gorgeous auburn hair. Just as society demands for decent women in public.
She removed the palla and handed it to one of the attendants, revealing a bright and form-fitting orange Greek-style peblos underneath. She locked eyes with him, a slight smile on her lips. “Salve, my dear. I was very happy when I received the invitation for this dinner.” Oh my. That smile, like a sunrise. Those eyes, like deep pools. I might already be done for.
Caesar suddenly realized that the other guests were all waiting for him. He turned to greet his old friend and fellow senator Gaius Oppius and his wife Petreia, followed by Lucius Cornelius Balbus from Gades in Hispania Ulterior, a reputable engineer that had served as praefectus fabrum in the Tenth legion during Caesar’s time as governor of southern Hispania. Close friend to both Caesar and Pompeius, Balbus had been the necessary connection to make the current alliance a reality.
They went through the seating process, resulting in Caesar and Calpurnia on the same couch right next to each other. He was transfixed by her company and her witty conversation throughout the dinner. He hardly tasted the different fruits brought out as the first course, nor all the different meats, vegetables and seafood of the second, or the fine sweets and desserts. The remainder of the evening proceeded like a blur for him, and afterward he remembered only two things with perfect clarity.
The first was his shock when he learned about a side of Quintus Tullius Cicero that he hadn’t previously been aware of. The conversations had veered towards recent and memorable experiences, and his old friend shared about having to tour the province to dole out justice during his time as governor of Asia. “The man was accused of patricide. Can you believe that, patricide, the most heinous crime imaginable? I could not allow the defense to finish and told them to shut up or be shut up. I was so angry, I sentenced him to the traditional Roman punishment. A beating to within an inch of his life and being sewn into a leather bag with a dog, a snake, a rooster and a monkey, all to be thrown into the sea together. The only issue was that we were too far from the ocean, so we had to make do with throwing the sack into a river.” He laughed heartily. “I thought he was long dead when we got there. He could have succumbed to the beating, or suffocated in the sack, or maybe that local snake was poisonous after all. But as the sack was thrown from the cliff, he started screaming and kept screaming all the way down.”
He did not like the happy smile on his friend’s face. I will need a good man at his side to counter this apparent streak of cruelty.
The other part Caesar remembered clearly was Calpurnia’s plea to him at the end of the dinner, when she turned over on their couch to directly face him. She took his hand and started to whisper. “I hope it is clear to you by now that I adore you. I am sure this is mutual, so please go and see my father. Make arrangements as soon as you can.”
695 AUC (59 BC), summer to late summer
Corduba, Capital of Roman Province Hispania Ulterior to Aquileia, Capital of Roman Province of Gallia Cisalpina
“I don’t know how much more I can take of this,” one of the other young legionaries behind him commented loud enough to be heard over the din of the long marching column.
Numerius Churinas nodded in agreement, himself too tired to talk. He looked up to see his old friend Vibius Clarus two rows ahead, just as exhausted as all their fellow soldiers. They were ten centuries of fresh recruits that had shipped out in early summer to join the Ninth legion. Upon arrival in southern Hispania the local administration told them about the legion having relocated to northern Italia thanks to urgent orders from the Senate. The lead centurion, may the gods curse his soul, had the glorious idea of marching all the way instead of chartering ships.
They were two weeks in and he had vivid daydreams about having to march forever. As punishment from the gods, though I don’t know what crime I have committed to be punished so.
“It will do your stamina some good, and it’s going to be your first adventure as true legionaries,” his neighbor mumbled. Numerius smiled. These were the exact words the centurion had told them in his speech in Corduba. That adventure turned out to be a string of many days filled by ten-hour marches, followed by dreamless nights fueled by his exhaustion.
The single buccina among the horn blowers blew for their midmorning break. The men hurried to the side of the road to get a break from the sun reflecting off the light-colored stone pavement, which was too bright for tired eyes. The hills here were rather barren and the heat was outright cruel. Numerius touched Vibius’ shoulder. “How are your feet?”
“Not as bad as yours,” came the answer. “Mine seem to have recovered. I am getting pretty thick callus where my blisters were, and the caligae feel comfortable now.”
Numerius lowered his body down to the ground and sighed in relief. The bulky chainmail alone weighed close to fifteen pounds, and the hardest lesson over the first few days had been that you couldn’t wear your belt too loosely around the mail, or all that weight pulled on your shoulders. Full battle gear added another ten to fifteen pounds for each man, consisting of helmet, shield, gladius and pila, the legionary-style javelins. All that was bad enough by itself, though for marching they had to deal with yet another forty pounds of personal packs, tied to a T or Y shaped rod and carried over their left shoulder. Numerius opened the oiled skin around his pack and started rummaging in the wicker basket. Moving his field spade, his glazed bowl and cup, spoon and knife, his hand finally found his bag of field rations. He pulled out the last piece of this morning’s bread and began chewing, washing down the dry mouthfuls with swigs of water from his canteen. Looking over to their tent squad’s mule, he realized it was just as heavily loaded as they were. At long last I understand why Marius’ veterans of old called themselves his mules, but I don’t why they were supposed to be proud of it.
***
Three and a half months and fifteen hundred miles later, Numerius found himself happily marching through northern Italia. The men often sung to keep in step, and the mood was euphoric this close to their destination. He looked left to his friend Vibius who marche
d next to him. Amazing how thick his calves are, I didn’t know legs could grow like this.
“Summer is going to be over soon, and we spent all of it marching,” Numerius muttered.
“So? What else would you do anyway?” Vibius retorted before they both started laughing. “I think I’ll be sad when it’s over.”
It had taken a while, but once the legionaries had grown accustomed to their daily exertion, light banter while marching had become easy, the mood improved, and the trip had turned into the adventure promised.
“I will be glad to stay in one place for a while, but I agree, we certainly got to see a lot, and had some exploits along the way.” Numerius commented.
“You could say that! Do you remember the old ragged fellow in Saguntum that sold the very best balm for weary feet?” Vibius said, mimicking the dirty man’s husky voice. They both burst out into laughter loud enough to garner a glance back by their decurion marching two rows ahead.
“That stuff stunk to the heavens. Our mates asked us to sleep outside for two days until we could wash it off,” Numerius answered. “How about the weird fermented paste we bought in Tarraco? We never figured out what that was.”
“No, we didn’t, only that it needs to be avoided like the plague.” At first, they had quite liked the flavor, though it had resulted in them having to remain close to the latrines for several nights.
“Vibius!” Numerius suddenly called out. “Look ahead, could that be it…?”
“Yes, that must be our legion’s camp. We made it!” Vibius shouted the last part, getting several hoots and hooray’s in response from his excited comrades. “Let’s see if they give us a few days off, I’d like some rest.”
“That would be the decent thing to do, but I have the feeling we’ll be up early tomorrow for more training, mark my words.”
696 AUC (58 BC), late spring
South of Bailenua, Free Gallia, Eastern part of the Aedui Nation
“How many able-bodied warriors do we have left beside our party?” Brenna asked.
“As many as are riding with us, another three hundred,” Elsed answered.
Brenna had a sharp intake of breath before replying. “I did not realize how bad things stand. We can’t keep doing this.”
“I agree, but what else can we do? You know we can’t ask for help from Bibracte anymore, not since Magetobriga.”
They were out leading the town’s warriors in pursuit of yet another enemy raiding party. Word of two hundred Harudi raiders had reached them only yesterday morning, and they had been in hot pursuit ever since. The raiders had given them a merry chase, always staying slightly ahead of them. It’s as if they know we follow them, carefully staying ahead without really trying to get away.
As the group rode through a forest clearing, he decided to slow his horse, taking in the exhaustion of everybody. He worried his wife Brenna might fall out of the saddle at any moment. His brother Morcant and brother-in-law Bradan seemed to be in only marginally better shape. Enough.
“Ho!” he called out, reining in with his left and raising his right hand before he dismounted.
“Are we finally giving up on this wild goose chase?” Rionach asked, following suit.
Elsed smiled at his sister’s and wife’s best friend. “I think we have to.” Orlagh, always keen on showing her fierce and hardened warrior face, reined up next to Rionach with a warm smile for her love. Their longstanding relationship had caused much turmoil lately, with Rionach resisting all attempts by her family to become a bride for one of a long line of male suitors. He watched their happy banter as he stretched his weary muscles from too much saddle time. Our usually tolerant culture frowns on lack of procreation. No, the issue is in not publicly trying to have children.
As the new chieftain, he listened to all kinds of complaints about the two women. He sighed. Rionach’s brother had died fighting another raiding party a few months ago, leaving the women as substitute parents to the man’s son and daughter, which had quieted the loudest voices. “We should head back home. I’d like to eat a proper meal and sleep in my bed tonight,” He stated loudly.
“You mean share our bed with me?” Brenna shouted as she walked up from his side, causing many chuckles and smiles. How did I get so lucky? Marrying that woman is the best thing that ever happened to me.
He looked forward to being back at home with her and seeing his children again.
***
“Come on you two, let little Faela sleep,” Aina scolded her three-year-old daughter Nara and two-year-old nephew Coraidan who was Faela’s older brother. “Come away from her and give me a break.” Her hope for Faela sleeping was suddenly disturbed by a piercing noise from the outside.
“What was that, Mamm?” her daughter asked.
“That is from the people on the wall, the carnyx are blowing alarm. We need to find out what’s going on. Get your things, I will be back with Iudica.” She ran over to the neighbor’s house. “Iudica? Are you there?”
“I am here, Aina, what is going on?” The young teenage girl said on her way out the door. She was home alone, her mother long dead, her father out with Elsed.
“I am not sure, but I intend to find out. Will you help me with the children, please?” After a decisive nod from Iudica, they rushed back to her house, where she fastened a long rectangular cloth around Iudica’s shoulders as a sling for little Faela. She bent down to Nara and Coraidan. “It’s very important you listen to me now.” The big eyes of the children meant they understood this was serious. “You have to either hold my hand or Iudica’s, no walking alone. We need to go and see what’s going on, and I don’t want to leave you here. Do you understand?” She looked them in the eyes, until they both nodded. “Alright, let’s go.”
She held Nara’s hand and led in the direction of the gate. They got right up to the town’s wall close to the gate. “Stay with Iudica for a moment. I will be right back,” she told Nara. She joined several warriors frantically running up the stairs before searching for who was in charge. She recognized old Fedelmida, her mother’s best friend.
“Aina!” Fedelmida called. “Have a look, this is truly bad.” She pointed south. When Aina followed the direction with her eyes, she took in a sharp breath. Far away in the distance she saw thousands of riders pouring into the fields between two patches of forest. Even with Elsed and his force here we would not have enough to defend the wall against this many.
“Suebi? What should we do?” Aina asked.
“Pray, child.” Fedelmida said quietly before giving herself a jolt. “We should get some people over the wall on our north side, with the children. But it’s risky, who knows how long it will take the riders to get around to the backside of our walls.” The old woman scanned the town until she stopped at a fenced patch with a couple of grazing horses. “We have maybe sixty horses left in town. How about we mount warriors, each with a child, and send them out through the gate before the Suebi close in?”
“That would get at least some of the little ones out. Any that get caught will grow up as slaves.”
“That’s settled then. We’ll send out our young and able warriors, and as many children as we can. I want you to lead them, Aina,” Fedelmida said. “No discussion!”
Aina sighed. “I’ll need help to collect the horses. We’ll meet at the inside of the gate.” She took one last glance out over the fields at the steadily approaching enemy, close enough now to leave no doubt they were Suebi and their Germanic allies and hurried back to the stairs. Behind her, Fedelmida issued orders to some of the other younger warriors to fetch horses.
“Go!” After the loud send-off, everybody rushed down the stairs after her.
“Iudica! The Suebi are here, and there are too many to try to defend the town. We need to fetch all the remaining horses and ride out with the children to save as many as we can. Come with me to our stall, you can ride one of ours.”
Iudica turned and ran off to her stable, little Faela bouncing in her sling. Aina grabbed
Nara and Coraidan by the hands and followed.
***
Aina sat in her saddle at the fringes of the crowded space in front of the gate, now filled with sixty horses and their riders. Nara sat right behind her, tied to the two rear horns of the saddle with a piece of cloth. Iudica’s horse was close by with little Coraidan sitting the same way, clasping the horns for all he was worth. Faela was wailing from Iudica’s sling.
“Everybody ready?” she shouted, receiving a few nods.
“Go now!” Fedelmida called down from the wall. “They are closing in fast. Head west the moment you are through the gate. We’ll keep them busy to buy you some time.”
She looked up at the many youngsters and old folks looking down from the wall that gripped their swords and spears with white knuckles, all sporting grim faces. None of you deserve what’s coming. Thank you and may the gods bless you.
Two grizzled warriors opened the portal doors and Aina shouted: “Ride!” She waited impatiently for all the riders to get to the gate. Finally, Iudica made it through and there was nobody else but Aina, who kicked her horse to follow. The moment she was through the gate she knew they had waited too long. She saw a group of enemy riders bear down on them at full gallop in an attempt to cut them off. She kicked her horse again until the mare reached a hard gallop, little Nara screaming in fear and discomfort behind her.
***
Elsed rode close behind Bradan, anxious to get home.
“By the gods!” his best friend called out.
“What is it?” Elsed asked but received no reply. He rode up himself and reined in. “Oh no.”
The rest of the group came out from the trees and stopped. “What should we do, Elsed?” Brenna asked with panic in her voice. “There are too many for us to fight, but we can’t leave our children!”
“I honestly don’t know. Maybe we ride to the northern part of the wall in the hope the Suebi aren’t there yet? We could get some of our people to climb over the wall,” he said, his hands shaking in fear for his people and his own little ones.
