“They know we are here then” stated Fasculus” his face still grimy from the long rides he had taken during the day. Below them lay a long plain with two roads visible across it, both heading into the low wood and turf walls of the city of Napete. Sprawled around the city was an enormous mass of tents and fires, some already blazing with wood for the night and others just dots of red light which were only just being stoked. But a flurry of activity was happening as officers beat men into a frenzy of digging and fixing entrenchments.
“Good” said Marcus as a few faces turned to him. “They will be tired tomorrow from digging all night” he smiled. “Who has the map?” he asked as he turned to the men beside him, a long nosed man with a thin, clean-shaven, face handed him a vellum scroll which he opened and stared at the scene below taking a moment or two to peruse the full scene.
The map was accurate, showing the two roads and the city walls surrounded by the tents of the encamped army. He looked up at the terrain, seeing a small rocky outcrop to the left, some four hundred paces from the city and west of the road. He looked back at the map and up again as a cry came from the Etruscans, men pointing at the Romans and some falling back towards the city in fear.
“They’ve seen us, Sir” came the voice from behind Marcus, who simply frowned at the obvious statement and continued to scour both the map and the scene below him.
Scipio leant across and pointed to the map. “There is the dip” he said as his eyebrows rose.
“Look here though” Marcus added calmly as a trumpet sounded at the camp and several men on horses started to gallop towards them. He pointed towards the dip in the ground and then drew his finger along to a thick line of trees further out from the picture on the map and nodded to Scipio.
“We need to leave, Sir” came the deep voice of the leader of the guard as he drew his spear and stepped in front of Marcus and Scipio. Both men nodded and with a last look at the terrain Marcus smiled and turned his horse, kicking it into a gallop and way from the charging Etruscans.
****
Manlius scowled at Apuleius, The man loved the sound of his own voice and could argue with himself and still not come to a conclusion. He also never seemed to agree with anything anyone said and his point was often lost in a flurry of diatribes on the evils of the Roman Senate and its patricians regardless of the subject matter at hand. His patience had worn thin and he raised a hand to the man as he was in full flow discussing the effect that losing more men to Napete was having on the strength of the plebeian party in Rome. Manlius had tired of the same old argument being raised again and, he suspected, so had most of the people sitting listening to his annoyingly monotone drawl.
“My dear Apuleius” he said with a fake smile. Apuleius saw him but continued with his speech disregarding the hand that was held up as a request to interject. Manlius considered simply getting up and leaving the meeting, but decided that may be a little too rude so he simply sat with his fake smile on his face and his hand raised and waited.
A number of small coughs and head nods to Apuleius eventually made him come to a stop and he turned to Manlius with a frown, which then turned into an equally fake smile as he asked “Ah, Marcus Manlius, what point would you like to make?” and stepped back from the rostra at which he had been standing.
Manlius smiled back and stood to look at the men sat around the room. This meeting of the inner council of the plebeian party had been called soon after the army had left for Napete, the discussion at hand was to arrange support for the city should the worst happen and the Roman army be defeated at both Napete and Veii. As it turned out Apuleius had seen it as an opportunity to lecture the plebeian leaders on the evils of the patricians and how he would change the balance of power in Rome for the better of the common man. Manlius nodded to Apuleius and stood for a moment looking at the faces of the men around him, most looking tired and bored.
“As you know my friends I have been a friend to the plebeians for many years” he started as a few men smiled back at him. “Talk of changes to Rome is welcomed, brother” he said with a turn to Apuleius “yet it does not help us to solve our problems today. We must continue to discuss the issue of what we will do should our glorious troops be defeated under the hands of the newcomer Marcus Furius” he said with scorn. “As I stated at the start of the meeting over an hour ago” he glanced to Apuleius, as did a few others in the room “it is my belief that we can hold the Capitoline Hill if we barricade it tightly. It has a water supply and we can easily store several or more months of grain in the larger temples on the hill. It would be my choice” he started to say as Apuleius stood and held up his hand. Manlius shrugged and motioned for Apuleius to return to the rostra.
“Thank you” said the drawl of the plebeian. “The Capitoline is where your house is, am I right?”
“You know it is.”
Apuleius let a short silence fall in which a few men took the meaning and looked, almost angrily, at Manlius. “Yes it may be defensible, but I don’t see how that will help us. We need to strengthen the walls. Create a wall as strong and as large as Veii so that our enemies cannot enter as we cannot enter that city. It would make sense to put our considerable efforts and money into that option than to build defences on the Capitoline where the richer houses of the patricians are based” he almost sneered as he finished the last words.
Manlius stood to reply but Apuleius continued in a louder voice “I am unsure where your loyalties lie Manlius. First you tell us that you are a friend of the plebeians and then you ask us to defend your home. I don’t understand your thoughts and I am certain that many of the council don’t either” he said as Manlius took a moment to steady his nerves and looked at Apuleius with a stony face, his anger held inside as he motioned for the opportunity to speak.
“You misinterpret my meaning” he said, his voice cold but level. “In suggesting that the Capitoline would be a good place to defend should Rome’s wall, gods forbid, be breached by attackers, I mean only to say that the topography allows it to be easily defensible, not to defend particular houses or dwellings. In fact, my dear friend” he said bowing as he spoke “I ask if you have any better suggestions as, from where I stand, we would not have the manpower or time to build walls as large or as strong as those of Veii and we certainly won’t have the building material available in such a short period of time. In fact” he said, raising his own hand as Apuleius started to rise and his hand came up “I think Decius has a point” he said, motioning for one of the other men to take the stand.
As Decius took the rostra and began to extol the virtues of fortifying the walls of the city and the Capitoline Manlius groaned inwardly. It was no wonder that the plebeians and patricians could never agree on anything, the plebeians could never agree with each other. He took a slow breath and looked at Apuleius. The man was starting to annoy him, his actions and words were devious and divisive and his sudden turnaround in this meeting showed he couldn’t be trusted.
Manlius sat and thought, ignoring the words being spoken around him. After a while he decided that it was time he started to re-develop his military career. Why couldn’t he prove himself as Marcus Furius had done? Why was it that the Senate had chosen Furius over himself and what more could he do to promote his own claim for Dictator should such a need arise? He scowled, the facial turn making the man to his left look quizzically at him, to which Manlius smiled broadly and threw back his head with a silent laugh. Yes, that was what he should have done, played to his own strengths. On the battlefield glory was won easily for men like himself. He had won many skirmishes and fought many battles. If he was to fulfil his destiny, then now was the time to fight for Rome and show the people who he really was, their greatest leader. He nodded to himself and set his jaw firm at the thought.
“Manlius?” came the question from the rostra which pulled him back to the meeting.
“My apologies” Manlius said as he stood “could you repeat that please, I was considering the question but I have lost my th
oughts for a moment” he smiled, noting Apuleius narrow his eyes at his words.
“Do you agree that we should consider both the walls and the Capitoline?”
“I do” said Manlius as he smiled broadly at the men around him. “Indeed it is an excellent idea.” He looked around the room and turned to Apuleius. “Now that agreement has been reached I must leave for another appointment, please do forgive me” he said as he stepped quickly across and gripped Apuleius’ hand and then moved across to the other men, smiling broadly as his mind went through what he needed and how quickly he could reach Veii.
****
Dawn was slow in coming and the men of Rome had already lined up in their ranks, marching quickly in the darkness to be ready for the light to appear. The officers had risen even earlier than the men and had attended the briefing in which Marcus had laid out his final plans for the impending attack, expecting that the Etruscans would line up in their phalanx at dawn in the traditional fashion.
As the men trudged through the calf length grass their feet became wet as the morning dew soaked into the leather of their sandals, some men finding it slippery as well as wet and being berated by angry Centurions. Other men grumbled at the early hour and marching in the dark, their grumbling causing others to shout at them to shut up. All in all it was a slow start. Marcus had ridden forward with Fasculus and approached the higher ground from which he has watched the Etruscan camp the night before. In the darkness he could just about make out the features of the Etruscan fire pits around the walls where many of the men had slept but it was too dark to make out any other features. He had used his velites to skirmish their lines all night, shooting fire arrows randomly into the tented area at irregular intervals to keep them awake. Their commander had been clever and sent pickets out into the open ground in twos and threes to keep an eye out for the attackers, catching one man before his colleagues raced in and butchered the pickets before fleeing. Marcus had rewarded each of the rescuers for their bravery and rebuked the man who had been caught. Scipio had called his decision harsh, but Marcus knew that, just like at the camp at Veii, success must be rewarded and failure frowned upon.
Below him he could make out the movement of a phalanx of soldiers heading slowly and silently into the open ground in front of the city, the noise of marching was dull in the heavy pre-dawn morning. Squinting he made out the lines of men as they headed across the open road and into the plain beyond, exactly where he had hoped that they would go. More men moved across the lines of fires, the black shapes lit up momentarily by the red glow of the dying embers.
“There” Fasculus pointed into the darkness as a movement caught Marcus’ eye. Yes it was a series of wagons moving in the opposite direction, back towards the city but not into it, the light reflecting off the walls and the noise of the oxen braying as they pulled their heavy loads suddenly giving away their position. “They have set up their camp outside the city. He clearly thinks he will beat us easily and has not even bothered to place his spoils from raiding the local tribes into the safety of the town” Fasculus said, his voice betraying his surprise.
“An advantage we can use” Marcus spoke quietly but confidently as he tapped Fasculus on the shoulder and motioned that they return to the army.
Within ten minutes the men were back with the forward phalanx of soldiers, their shields still swathed in their leather covers as they marched with ten and twelve feet long spears towards the plain outside Napete.
“Fetch the officers Fasculus, we have to use every advantage. Also bring a messenger I need to get a new message to Narcius.”
****
Narcius and his men had broken camp as many of the arrivals from Rome were just settling down to sleep. He knew his troop of a thousand men were critical to the battle to come, but so was stealth. Arriving too early or too late could lead to death for all of his men, timing was everything. The night march had been difficult, the leading officer losing his bearings twice and holding the men still as a long series of clouds swept across the sky and he couldn’t discern the direction in which they needed to travel. Narcius had held his tongue as the man had blustered about the weather, cursing his ill luck and calling on his gods to avert the evil eye from him. It had taken a swift discussion with the man out of the earshot of the soldiers to get him back on track, the threat of leaving the man tied to a tree for the wolves to pick over his half dead body clearing his mind of any ill omen other than the wrath of his First Spear.
Within four hours they had reached the dip in the ground that Marcus had described to him and the men dug their pits and settled down to catch a few hours of sleep, Narcius taking minutes to fall into a deep and untroubled slumber as the night was clear and cool.
Waking to find a slight dew on the ground he had shaken himself awake and woken his officers, quickly setting them duties which would need to be finished before dawn. Parties of men slipped over the ridge and headed into the darkness, their packs heavy as they disappeared silently into the gloom, the tools to dig pits protruding from them. Narcius marvelled at Marcus’ tactics, knowing that he should really expect no less from the man as he had already shown his brilliance in several conflicts. This would be different though, a set-piece battle on a plain with two armies of several thousand men in deep phalanxes. The plan he had set out was, as usual, risky, but offered every chance of a sweeping success – if the Etruscans did what he hoped they would.
****
Vitulus and Sentillius stood in the dark and looked across to the low hills, the tree line visible in front of a lightening blue hue which was rising slowly into the sky. “Dawn” said Vitulus, his hand on his sword hilt as he blinked sleep from his eyes despite being awake for many hours. The two men had set up their forward lines in the appointed position. They knew the Romans would march at dawn and so they had set their lines out early to be prepared, and possibly to catch them unaware if they arrived in smaller groups.
Vitulus looked to his right at the sound of his fellow chieftain relieving himself, the warm smell of urine hitting his nostrils as he winced and turned his face away.
“Good, I might be able to see whose leg I am pissing against” laughed Sentillius as the men closest to them laughed back at his joke. Vitulus smirked, but kept his eye on the trees away to their left where the sunlight was beginning to show below the canopy of dark leaves, the trunks appearing like thin men standing in rows as he smiled at the thought, an old childhood nightmare of trees turning to men coming back to his mind, no doubt some story his mother had told him one night to keep him from running into the woods and being eaten by wolves.
He strode along the line, not quite able to make out the faces of the men in the darkness, but certainly able to smell them and hear their whispered conversations. “Keep it down” he chided to one group who were laughing too loudly, the silence instantly showing that they knew who was calling to them.
Moving back to the front where Sentillius was standing he noticed that he could now make out more of the men than when he had marched in the opposite direction, dawn was moving quickly and the day was breaking.
“What’s that?” came a fearful shout from one of the ranks of soldiers as Vitulus span around and sought the location of the noise.
“Who said that? What do you mean?” he growled in a low voice.
“There, Sir. Look” called another voice different from the first as Vitulus turned to look into the plain ahead of him. At first he saw nothing, his eyes squinting into the darkness as the light above the hills kept the plain dark. Then he caught a glimpse of a slow movement, then another and his heart skipped a beat. What could it be? He wandered across to Sentillius. “What is it?” he asked. The other officer shook his head, the sound of the brass fitting moving on his helmet being the only reason he knew his head was shaking as he could not yet make out his features.
“I don’t know. Feritas” he said quickly “run ahead and see what it is, come back as soon as you know.”
A shaky voice replied �
��Sir” and jogged off into the distance, his feet padding on the grass the only sound that suggested he was still there. Then there was a sudden noise, unmistakable as arrow fall and a scream split the air as the front rank of Etruscans all flinched and stepped backwards, Vitulus and Sentillius looking to each other before Vitulus called “shields” and the men raised their shields above their heads, some kneeling and others simply remaining standing, but no arrows came and Feritas did not return.
“Bastards” snarled Sentillius as he squinted into the dark. To his left the tree line was starting to take more shape and the light began to suddenly grow. Behind him he could hear the unmistakable sound of numerous men marching into battle order. He grinned. As soon as it was light he would set the horses on the archers who were still standing out there on the plain, it would be like killing goats in a pen. Magnamus was on his right and Soticus on his left, both good leaders. They had discussed their plan and they were all set to march into the Roman line and smash them apart. What fools they had been to send old men and boys against true soldiers, were the Romans that arrogant? His spies had been slow in arriving with the news, but once he had known that the enemy was little more than old soldiers and young boys he had shouted it from every camp fire, telling his men that the Roman grandfathers and babies were coming to gnaw them with their rotten teeth and numbed hands. They had laughed and cheered him all night long and he had lapped up their praise. If this Camillus was such a good general then he would have to be truly divine to beat his experienced soldiers in their prime. He snorted at the thought, bringing a look from Vitulus which he ignored as he looked into the space ahead of him and decided it was time to march forwards to their battle positions.
The Fall of Veii- Part 2 Page 22
