The Fall of Veii- Part 2

by Francis Mulhern

  “I want the ditches dug to three men deep and the walls raised to twelve. We will have no more dealings with the city and we will certainly have no prostitutes in the camp” he turned to Spurius. “The civilian camp must be dismantled and removed” he said as a number of the men shuffled nervously at the words. “I know how it will be to the men, but the camp has over two thousand people living there, a hotbed of spies, thieves and sickness, and another reason why the men are slack in their work. The civilians can go home or remove themselves to two miles, too far for an evening’s journey for the men to see their sweethearts or bastard children” Marcus added as he looked to Spurius. “Within the week” he commanded as the bull of a man glanced to Manucius and nodded, the patrician, already looking as if he had thought through some of the logistics, nodded in return.

  “Every man here has to earn my trust” Marcus said coldly. “I will not accept failure and I will not accept defeat. Veii must fall.” The soldiers stiffened at his words.

  Handing the pile of tablets to the Optio Marcus stood. “Every soldier will renew his vows to Rome under the flames of the gods and the standard of Rome. I want every man to know that we are here for one purpose, to defeat Veii” he finished as the men saluted and said, as one, “For Rome.”

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  Chapter 13

  Mella slumped into the chair and grabbed the wine jug in a mud covered hand. “I won the bet” he smiled to Caelio. “Ditch dug in two days” he grinned despite the weary look on his face. “Those pricks in the third are too fat and lazy” he added as he slurped the drink, spilling some on his dirty tunic.

  “What news from Fasculus?” Caelio asked, his clean hand waving for the wine jug.

  Mella sat forward and raised his eyebrows. “Camillus has a name but he hasn’t said who yet. Seems that it’s a go-between so he’s sent someone to check it out.”

  “Good” came the reply. After a moments silence Caelio continued. “How are your lads? Any better?” Caelio was referring to the sombre mood that remained over the soldiers in the camp. The hard work of dismantling forts and reinforcing the defences had added to their miserable conditions they already had to endure. Constant sneak attacks from Veii continued to harass the men as they worked, but Marcus had forbidden any skirmishes as they led to the loss of too many un-prepared Romans, he had simply told the soldiers to retreat to safety and await the Veientines return to their city. To him the priority was to shore up the defences, not to waste time and energy on repeat attacks against small groups of raiders.

  “Same” Mella replied glumly. “Nothing much pleases them, especially since the civilians and prostitutes left” he laughed dryly at the thought. “Every day I get some jumped up plebeian who wants to make it as a politician telling me how I should do things and exclaiming that the gods are still against us” he shook his head with a sigh.

  Caelio added that his were the same before asking “do you think we will win?”

  Mella shrugged and returned to the jug of wine. “Marcus Furius Camillus is the greatest general I have ever seen or heard of. The things he can do in battle and the way he plans assaults” he shook his head admiringly “well, if he can’t do it, no-one can” he said.

  “When is he back?”

  “He arrived in the dark, more prisoners are to be tied to the walls this afternoon when the sun reaches its high point” Mella replied, his eyes downcast at the thought of more runaways screaming into the long nights as they died tied and nailed to the walls. Marcus had now cleared every camp that the soldiers knew existed, hundreds of bodies lining the walls to be pecked at by crows and other birds. On the first day the first man had been nailed to the wall a large brown eagle had soared over the camp and dived at his jerking body as he screamed for mercy. The Eagles had called forth their standard and prayed to the gods in justification of the act, the sign clear for all the men to see.

  ****

  “Centurion” came the call as Narcius turned to look along the line of soldier’s furiously packing earth into the front of the great walkway which would be used to attack the city. Wicker screens were covering their work, but in reality a stalemate had grown in which the Romans worked hard all day to built the walkway and the Veientines came out at night to knock down as much of the earthwork as they could. As the walkway had approached the city it had been too dangerous to leave more than a few guards at the head of the great ramp for fear of a full scale attack killing all the defending troops, as had happened in the early days of the siege.

  Narcius wandered across, the boredom showing in his face as he nodded to the man. “What is it?” he asked.

  “Look there” he said, pointing to the walls where a group of men had appeared, the oldest wearing the long brown and blue robes of an Etruscan Augur. He seemed to be chanting some words, which Narcius couldn’t make out. The Roman looked fearfully at his Centurion as both men turned their attention to the old sage.

  “Is he cursing us?” the man asked, his face draining of colour as he gripped a circular talisman depicting an eye which was held around his neck.

  Narcius ignored the comment and stepped closer to the wall, stopping at thirty to forty paces to call up to the man.

  “You” he shouted. “What magic are you calling for. It will not work. We will take your city and grind it into the dust” he yelled.

  The men above looked down on him as one took a bow and knocked an arrow onto the string, Narcius raised his shield in reply before the sage placed an arm across the bow-wielder. They spoke words that Narcius couldn’t hear as he strained his eyes to see what was happening. The sage smiled down on the Romans as two men came to stand next to Narcius.

  “What is it, sir” asked one of the men, shorter but wider in the shoulders than his officer.

  Narcius shrugged and returned his gaze to the walls.

  “You Romans will never defeat Veii” the sage laughed back at him, his arms rising to the sky as he spoke. “The gods have willed it so” he added as a brown-toothed grin split the age old beard on his face.

  “What does he mean?” the legionary, Vestus, asked as Narcius looked to him and his face grew angry.

  “How do I know. Get back to work you little..” he started as the legionaries face turned to one of fear. His words were cut off by the shout from above.

  “The water has risen to show the will of the gods. You have no idea how much the gods favour this great city” the man shouted as his arm swept back behind him, several more soldiers appearing on the wall all laughing and pointing to the Romans below.

  “What do you mean? Tell us if the gods have spoken to you” called Narcius, a number of thoughts running through his mind. “Tell us, old man, if there are words which we can take back to Rome” he added as he looked to the shorter soldier and whispered “Fetch Centurion Mella at once, go” he commanded with a slight shove to the man’s shoulder.

  “Look how fearful we are of your gods” called Narcius as the legionary raced away. This brought a fevered discussion high on the wall as Narcius remained wary in case any missiles came towards him. He also became aware that the men behind him had stopped their work to watch the discussion, no doubt listening to the banter so they could relay information back to their tent mates and friends.

  After a few minutes the old sage turned back to Narcius and called down “You cannot take this great city. Its walls are protected by the mother goddess Juno and by Jupiter himself. The prophecy of Minios has spoken and you cannot take her walls, the lake has spoken to us.” He shouted.

  Narcius didn’t understand a word of what the old man had meant and he stood, staring at the walls with his mouth open. The men on the walls laughed again, some calling him stupid, others simply laughing at his open-mouthed gaze.

  A noise to his rear announced that Mella was approaching, bucking his sword belt as he ran, his face a picture of urgency. Within a moment he arrived. “What?” he said as he stared up at the walls.


  “I’m not sure” said Narcius. “It seems that the Veientines have a prophecy too. Something to do with the walls and the lake, but I’m not sure” he added with a puzzled look.

  “I’ve called for the Tribune to be woken, he got back late this morning” he added as Narcius looked to him.

  “Is that your leader?” called the sage, his eyes searching the two men.

  “Who wants to know?” Mella shouted, his face looking to Narcius as he raised his eyebrows quickly and smiled.

  A silence fell as the men at the wall seemed to fall into a long discussion, arms waving and faces turning to scowl at the two Romans. After a moment a tall man, his thin face covered by a neat beard, turned to look down at them. “There is no more to say” he called “we have nothing to speak of. Carry on with your digging, it serves you well to dig like rats in the garden” he finished to a burst of laughter from the men around him.

  Mella noticed that the sage looked angrily at the tall noble and turned angrily away as the Veientines continued to laugh at their leaders comment.

  ****

  “So Apuleius, there you have it my friend” Manlius said as a broad smile stretched across his face.

  Apuleius, his eyes constricted as he thought, simply sat and looked at the information he had been handed. He turned to his left and shrugged to a large man, his ruddy face showing the deep tan of a man who spent a long time in the sun. The man took the vellum, its pink and yellow cover showing it had only been created a matter of days earlier, and read along the rows of information, his eyes rising at some points and his brow furrowing at others.

  “Ten thousand Ases” the man suddenly said, his eyes growing wide as he almost fell backwards from his chair.

  “Each” Apuleius smiled happily.

  “Each?” the man said. “They will be bankrupt” he added, his face dropping and his chest rising more rapidly.

  “That is the decision of the court” Manlius said in solid, cold, tones.

  “It is good enough” Apuleius said as he stood and turned to the lawyer next to his, his eyes still bulging at the enormity of the sum. “The families of the dead will receive a percentage, the rest will go to the treasury?” he asked, returning his gaze to Manlius, who nodded his reply. “Good” he said.

  It had taken weeks of continuous harassment of the patricians for the plebeians to bring the case against Sergius and Virginius, the Senate stalling the action as long as they could. Eventually they had appointed Manlius as the lead in the case and he had ruthlessly questioned both men and had set the delivery of his decision within a week. Unknown to the Senate he was brokering an agreement with Apuleius and was, today, finalising the words before delivering his final verdict.

  “You see Apuleius I remain loyal to the plebeian cause. You have no need to doubt me” Manlius smiled as the plebeian tribune cocked his head to one side.

  “Doubt?”

  “Oh I have my sources. They say you have stated that I cannot be trusted to deliver real justice against a patrician”

  A momentary grimace came to Apuleius’ face before he smiled back at Manlius, his annoyance at the words dissolving as he looked to the large man and nodded. The man stood and thanked both gentlemen before disappearing through the door behind the men in Apuleius’ study.

  “It seems I had you wrong, Manlius” he said with a look of concentration on his face, clearly choosing his words carefully. “Though I do not understand what it is that drives you, a wealthy land owner to support the people” he said.

  Manlius took a few seconds to answer, his eyes fixed on Apuleius as if appraising him. “Rome is my concern Apuleius” he said levelly. “It matters not to me what status a man is or what wealth he holds. This city is the greatest there is and will grow more with strong leadership. Leadership which can come from any quarter as long as it is strong and guided by the principles of our fathers” he said.

  “Fathers of patricians?” Apuleius asked.

  “Fathers of Romans” came the reply.

  A short moment of silence came as the two men sat and smiled to each other, neither willing to break the stillness that had fallen between them.

  “You truly believe that there will be a day when it doesn’t matter what the background of the man is for him to be a member of the Senate of Rome and speak on behalf of all of her citizens?” asked Apuleius.

  “I believe that the people of Rome want someone to stop the criminal acts of the patricians, but they also want to trust their own leaders” he added, the mixed words causing a frown to come to Apuleius’ face. “They see injustice and debt as their want in life. Why? Because they are born into inferior families. Ha” he laughed. “I am sure the gods do not care whether a man is a patrician, a plebeian or a member of the headcount. The gods wish to see Rome become the greatest city in the world, what they want is a strong man, a new Hercules, to lead Rome by supporting the people. We happily conquer every land we feel should bend its knee to us, yet we desire more. Or do we Apuleius? Do the patricians desire power and the plebeians not? Tell me, if the people wish to continue to be the sheep that provide the food for patrician greed I will renounce my position as champion of the plebeians. I will Apuleius. But I think they do not know what they want because they have been subservient for too many generations. I will change that, Apuleius” Manlius said slapping his hand slowly on the table as he leant forward with a mad glint in his eye which unnerved the plebeian tribune.

  “I will be the strong voice of the men of Rome, not the patrician, not the plebeian, but the Roman.” Manlius finished by sitting back in his chair, his breathing slow and steady as a calm manner came over him after the sudden intensity of his words.

  Apuleius sat and stared at the older man, his arms now folded across his chest and did not know what to say. He took a moment to think through the words he had heard and then nodded “strong words indeed, Manlius” he said, his eyes looking around the room as he spoke. In his mind he was grasping for straws, the words had certainly been strong, but he did not understand what was driving the man sat across from him. It sounded like a desire to be the leader of Rome, maybe even the King. But such thoughts and words would bring death and he doubted he had understood them clearly, he needed time to understand what Manlius really meant.

  “You speak well, Manlius, and I will discuss your thoughts another day in more detail” he smiled as he stood. “But now I must leave as I have an appointment with the council” he lied, his head nodding as he replaced the chair and ushered the patrician from the room.

  ****

  Narcius had spent some time talking through the words of the sage with Marcus, both men unsure what they actually meant but sure that there was something in them which they needed to understand. Marcus had sat alone for an hour and couldn’t shake the words of Lucius from his mind; that he needed someone else to help to fathom the words of the prophecy. He looked at the table in the centre of the command room in which he sat, the wooden fort given to him by Javenoli sat off-centre, wooden blocks showing the forts and soldiers placed where his men were strongest. He walked across and stared at the scene, trying, in his mind’s eye, to picture the lake, away to his right as he looked at the scene. How did it relate to the city and what part did it have in its capture? What had Narcius said? ‘The prophecy of Minios’ whatever that was, had said that the walls could not be taken because of the lake. He wondered what it meant, thinking of ways in which the water could be used to attack the walls. He remembered that the Senate had sent a deputation to the oracle at Delphi when the water had first risen and he decided he needed to know what the answer was before he decided what to do next. He had to defeat Veii. Each day that the men toiled at the earthworks was another day in which he felt ineffective, useless. He shook his head angrily as he looked at the wooden fort, imagining how he could batter the walls. Smirking he almost lashed out at the table but decided that was petty.

  As he started to go through the same ideas again his Optio entered the r
oom, another report in his hand, which he passed across after saluting smartly and stepping backwards. Scanning the words Marcus clenched his teeth and took a long breath, another man found hiding in the damned Cuniculi. The rabbit holes were everywhere and it had been days before his scouts had realised that many of the deserters were simply hiding in them, some as deep as a man and as wide as two sitting side to side. What had they been used for? To water the fields? He shook his head again and wished Scipio was here with him, he had a clear head for thinking things through and would spark off his own imagination.

  “Optio” he said, a sudden thought hitting his brain. “Ask Potitus if he would join me here please.” The man saluted and left.

  Within fifteen minutes Potitus and Mella had appeared, the former asking if the latter could join them as they had been eating together.

  “I have a quandary” Marcus said as he stood with his hands gripping the table. “The prophecy of Minios says the walls cannot be taken for some reason to do with the lake.” He licked his lips as he looked into the two puzzled faces of the men. “My prophecy” he said with a glance back to the table “says the waters will shrink in my hour of need” he said as Potitus moved closer, his interest suddenly alerted. “How do they relate?” Marcus asked with a puzzled look.

  Potitus tapped the table. “Can we speak to this sage?” he asked.

  “They wouldn’t let him” Mella replied.

  “How will the water shrink?” Marcus asked, sitting.

  “The gods will drain it?” Potitus replied with a questioning look.

  “We could get the men to drain it?” Mella said with a grin spreading across his face. Marcus looked up at this.