‘So what we need is some counter-intelligence.’ I was thinking out loud. ‘Can you feed them some false information about our numbers?’
The Gaul smiled. ‘I’ve already done that. Apparently we number around a hundred thousand and with the centurions and arms that we captured at Lugdunum,’ here he gave a wink, ‘our army has been drilled and armed in the Roman style.’
‘Excellent work!’
‘What do you mean, excellent?’ This was from the governor. ‘Now we will have to fight an army of veteran legionaries, and then defeat another legion coming up from the south.’
I was amazed that he still didn’t understand. ‘May I remind you, sir, that our objective is not to win, but to help Galba? Of course we can’t beat the Rhine legions, but we can negotiate with Rufus. Try and convince him to stay out of this altogether. We should march in force to confront his army, and then try and meet him in private. Do you know when and where they are likely to move?’
‘Not as yet. It will take time to assemble all the various detachments from the legions stationed further down the Rhine, especially the ones near the Ocean, but it shouldn’t take the Romans long to get themselves organized,’ Lugubrix answered.
‘What about Galba? Any news from Hispania?’ I enquired. You’ll notice that Vindex was doing very little of the talking.
‘As far as I know, he’s still in the throes of recruiting his new legion. If he is going to declare his intentions, it had better be soon.’
‘So what would you suggest, Severus?’
I paused for thought. I can still remember that moment even now. Effectively I was in command of my own commander, and by extension his thirty thousand or so troops. It was a new feeling, the exhilaration of military power, and not an unpleasant one.
‘Step up the training,’ I recommended. ‘In an ideal world, we won’t ever have to fight the Rhine legions, but we had better make sure our forces will not be totally unprepared. I would suggest lifting the siege at Lugdunum and bringing the men here. Concentrate our force and see what move Rufus makes. We don’t initially have anything to fear from the Italica legion. It will take a while for Rufus to assemble a force from two provinces, and we must use the time Lugubrix has bought us as best we can.’
Vindex tried to argue. ‘Why should I break off the siege? It is a rallying point for the Gauls, and I won’t abandon it lightly.’
‘With respect, sir, it is precisely because of this “freedom of the Gauls” nonsense that Rufus has decided to interfere. What practical use is the siege serving?’
The governor’s mouth froze and his eyes drifted upwards, as if he was thinking hard. If it were not such a serious situation, I would have called it comical.
‘Very well, Severus. It’s in your hands, then.’ He stood up to leave. ‘But… I am still going to lead the army against our enemies, aren’t I?’
I gave him a reassuring smile and, winking at Lugubrix, replied: ‘Of course you are, sir. We wouldn’t dream of depriving you of that privilege.’
He looked much relieved. I think he was beginning to realize that he wasn’t in quite as much control of the campaign as he had once thought he was. Composing himself, he stood up and walked purposefully out of the room. Not that I knew what pressing demand he had on his time. Perhaps his daily Homer lesson awaited him?
Lugubrix still stood there, looking as happy as an amorous young man who has just seen his love’s parents leaving the house for the weekend.
‘Why so smug?’ I asked.
‘I hadn’t quite realized until now who was in charge of this little rebellion. And I’m glad it’s someone who values me properly.’
I stood up and proffered my hand. He took it gladly. ‘By the way,’ I said quietly, still gripping his one hand, ‘I was followed to my own door last night by someone who was at great pains not to be seen.’ I took a step closer, still clasping his hand but smiling politely. ‘And if I find that my own spy has been spying on me, losing a hand will seem as nothing compared to the effects of my rather inventive imagination. Understood?’
I was pleased to see a lack of comprehension in his eyes, so I let go of his hand and rested mine on his shoulder as I led him back into the street.
‘Now, I need a constant update on the movements of those Rhine legions, and what Galba is up to. Thank you for your help.’
With that, I left him to his thoughts and headed up towards the basilica. Having found a runner boy, I told him to find Quintus and the other senior officers, and to have them report to me up at the hill fort.
An hour later, we were all assembled in the grand tent where I had first met Vindex. At my right-hand side was Quintus; what he lacked of his father’s height and build he made up for with enthusiasm and charm. Next to him was Martialis, a small and furtive character, and one of the cleverest Gauls I had yet come across. Then there was Albanos. He was quiet, surly, but had proven himself a good leader. Bormo was a terrific swordsman. Young and confident, despite his extraordinary talent he was one of the most level-headed and pragmatic men I could ask for. Carnunnos was the eldest of us. I’d reckoned him to be in his mid-forties, with a mane of greying hair. He was from Vienne itself, but widely travelled. I’d heard whispers that he came from a family that had produced several druids, until we came to Gaul and stamped out the barbaric religion.
I had been allowed to choose these men myself, apart from Albanos. He was from the Aquitani, like Vindex, and had been forced on me. That wasn’t to say that he was incompetent or obstructive, but nonetheless I resented having someone foisted upon me.
‘I have serious news. The emperor has sent his legion in Italia to meet us.’ A small murmur went round the table. ‘However, that need not immediately concern us,’ I continued. ‘What does concern us is the fact that Governor Rufus has decided to fight us, and as you know his legions are much closer.’
Martialis spoke up. ‘Well, that’s the rebellion over. What hope have we against all those legions?’
‘Thank you for that positive assessment, Martialis. I’ll tell you exactly why we’re not giving up. First, those legions are primarily there to keep the German tribes from spilling over the Rhine and into our lands. Remember Ariovistus and the Helvetii? The Romans stopped them from ransacking Gaul. So, they can’t weaken their defences too much in opposing us, otherwise the tribes might break through. Secondly, I am reliably informed that the legions all hate each other; some haven’t been paid, and don’t particularly support Nero. If they do decide to come for us, we don’t have to face them in open battle. We can skirmish, and play them off against each other.’
It was Bormo’s turn to interrupt. ‘But we’ve never been trained to fight like skirmishers, let alone in open formations.’
‘That is why we are going to concentrate solely on manoeuvres and skirmishes from now on. The Romans won’t be able to organize themselves for some time yet, they’re spread out over too great a distance. That probably gives us at the very least a fortnight to prepare.’
The men looked grim at that, but there was nothing else to be done. Obviously I didn’t want to send untrained men to their deaths. That was why I was so desperate to negotiate with Verginius Rufus, and prevent a massacre of men fighting for a cause that didn’t exist. But it was not all bad news.
‘I shall draw up training schedules for each of your units, and over the next week there will be a series of war games. Most of our recruits come from this region, so the attackers, with local knowledge, will practise against columns of those who aren’t so familiar with the area. And of course we shall alternate between attackers and defenders. Except you, Martialis. If we do have to fight, it will be in the region between here and the Rhine. Go and stay with your friends in the Sequani, and spy out the lie of the land. I want you to find potential sites for ambushes so we can use them.’
For the first time, Albanos spoke. ‘How is it that you’re the one who’s going to train us in how to beat the Romans, when you have no more military experience
than the rest of us? I’m from the Aquitani, like your uncle the governor, but I can’t say I’ve ever heard of you!’
Quintus was about to step in, but I wasn’t comfortable with having a back-story made up for me by anyone other than myself. Not only did I have to come up with an astoundingly good lie on the spur of the moment, but I had to be convincing. If I failed, either my authority would be undermined or, worse, my cover blown.
‘I’m sorry if you are unhappy with me in command, but there is a very simple reason that you may not know so much about me. While you were with our fellow tribesmen, working as a… sorry, what was it again?’ I asked.
‘A carpenter,’ he admitted.
‘Yes, that was it. Anyway, while you were no doubt ferocious in your attacks on your wooden wares, I was learning my trade with Boa—’ I checked myself. I had almost called the British queen by her Latin name. ‘With Boudicca.’
Silence.
‘Quintus’s father and mine were keen to have good relations with the chiefs in Britannia in the hope that she would defeat the Romans, and the best way to do that was to send a relation to help the cause. A volunteer was needed. Quintus and his brothers were far too young, so they sent me.’ I decided to twist the knife a bit. Sarcasm can be so much fun. ‘Until that last battle, I happened to think we were doing rather well, you know, destroying three Roman towns and annihilating almost an entire legion. Now, is there anyone else who fancies my command? I’ll happily lay it down if a better man comes forward.’
I looked around the table. Quintus was beaming, and Albanos just stared hard at me, which I took to mean assent. Crisis averted, I thought it might be no bad thing if I started to grow a beard. Disgusting things that they are, even some of the Gauls were coming round to ditching them, but covering up my facial features with some barbarian bristles might help me fit in a bit better.
‘So, Martialis, you will choose a deputy and send him to me, and he can take your place during the war games while you do the scouting. Quintus’s division, your men under the deputy and Albanos’s troops will head up into the hills west of here where my lot had their route march, and I will take Carnunnos and Bormo’s units to the east. I think that’s everything. I’ll send you the training instructions by mid-afternoon; meanwhile, return to your units and liaise with the quartermaster to see what equipment you still need. Quintus, you’ll stay for a moment, please.’
Most of them gave a respectful nod and started to leave. Albanos muttered something in Gallic, but my back was turned to him as I was about to continue talking with Quintus. But as soon as the words had been spoken, I saw a shocked reaction from both my friend and young Bormo. They looked at me, expecting a response of some kind. Not having the faintest idea what Albanos had said, I didn’t know what to say! The best I could do was: ‘That will do, Albanos. Return to your men.’
Sniggering, he left the tent, followed by a staggered Bormo. Quickly, I asked Quintus what had been said.
‘He called you a jumped-up little turd! You really don’t know any Gallic?’
‘Some. After all, it’s not too different to Latin. But how in Hades am I expected to know your curse words?’ I countered.
Quintus shrugged. Arguing the point would solve nothing. ‘Well, now he knows that you speak Latin better than any Gaul, and yet next to no Gallic. I don’t know why he should have been so mistrustful of you beforehand though…’
Poor Quintus. An excellent companion but somewhat naive.
‘I’m sorry to say this, Quintus, but it must be your father’s doing. Not only is Albanos from your tribe, but he was very strongly recommended to me by your father, far too strongly. He must be here to keep an eye on me.’
‘But why would my father want to spy on you?’
‘Because I’m in charge of this rebellion, and your father resents that. I don’t know what he wanted to achieve in this campaign, but he’s a very small piece on a very large board. I don’t mind giving you responsibility, you’ve got talent, but Albanos is just a spy. I reckon your father didn’t tell Albanos the whole truth about the purpose of the campaign, but sowed some seeds of doubt about me instead.’
Quintus was speechless. Eventually, he asked, ‘What are you going to do?’
I sighed, and planted my hands on the table. ‘What can I do? I have nothing against your father. He means well, but doesn’t have the ability or experience to organize this movement. His name gives credibility to the whole revolt. If I took command under the false name, either he would denounce me or Albanos would. I need to stay here, or the gods alone know what would happen when we meet the Rhine legions.’ I looked up at my young friend, and reassured him. ‘Your father has nothing to fear from me, he’s just trying to reassert his authority, that’s all. I shall ask him to relieve Albanos of command and send him home, probably.’
‘I had better set about looking for his replacement then.’
‘Thank you, Quintus.’
‘Not at all, Senator.’ Quintus gave a playfully elaborate bow, and left.
VIII
After a tedious couple of days sorting out the logistics of a possible march towards the Rhine, I decided to broach the subject of Albanos with Vindex. The exchange did not go well. I was angry that he had effectively put one of his hounds on to me, and told him so. He countered with a complaint that he barely knew me, yet he was meant to entrust the entire campaign to me on the strength of Galba’s word.
‘Just on Galba’s word, isn’t that enough?’ I retorted. ‘Your future emperor tells you that I am trustworthy and more than competent, and you have the balls to question his authority or judgement?’
He mutely shook his head.
‘Then call your spy off. He must not know the truth, or do you want me to tell your precious army what you’re really up to? A pawn of politics, leading a rabble of Gauls against crack Roman legions for your own personal gain, not to free Gaul from Roman rule.’
He was quivering by this stage, though whether through anger or fear, I don’t know.
‘You wouldn’t dare!’
‘I would.’ I was lying through my teeth, of course. Galba needed this rebellion to go ahead, and we couldn’t risk the army deserting because Vindex had twisted the truth. ‘Tell me, Vindex, what are you hoping to gain from this? Why did you offer to help Galba?’
He paused, and I saw his eyes flick downward as he searched for the right words.
‘Because Nero is rotting this empire from the core. Galba is the only man who can offer Rome moral leadership without sinking into tyranny.’ I didn’t believe him, but Vindex’s motives were the least of my worries for now.
‘Tell your man that my loyalty is not in question, and that his services are no longer required. I’ll find a replacement for him shortly.’ And with that I swept out, leaving my master fuming.
* * *
For the most part, the war games went surprisingly well. I did not envisage a scenario featuring a pitched battle between the two armies, as the misguided Gauls would be crushed. So I concentrated on another kind of warfare.
It hadn’t been completely untrue, what I had said about learning from Boadicea. My service in Britannia had meant that I was indeed experienced in skirmishes and the like, except that it was the Britons who had instigated them and not us. I knew the terror of being caught in an ambush, to be marching along an unerringly straight Roman road only to hear the chilling cry of barbarian horns. It is like a man who walks alone at night through a forest, confident that no one is around, and then hears a twig snap behind him.
Suddenly the crashing din of swords hitting shields echoes all around you, coupled with eerie wailing and chanting. Finally, the enemy appears. Hordes of huge, half-naked tribesmen, covered in a ghastly blue dye, materialize as if out of thin air on either side. You are surrounded, trapped. Men break away and try to run for it. They are quickly cut down. Soon your column is broken into small pieces who group together into tight formations, each man praying to his own god that he will surv
ive the onslaught.
It is calmness that saves you. The experienced men band together quickly, forming a near-impenetrable unit. An ambush depends on speed and surprise, so confronting one with a well-organized wall of men with armour and shields dramatically improves your chances of survival. Then you have to endure wave after wave of attacks, sometimes from just the one side, other times you are completely surrounded.
It was that terror that I wanted these Gauls to evoke in their enemies, but it would be difficult. The legionaries would have been fighting tribesmen on the Rhine frontier most of their professional lives, and would be as inured as any human can be to the fear. However, that would not make them invulnerable. Hannibal acted mercilessly at Lake Trasimene. Arminius destroyed the best part of three legions in the Teutoburg Forest. Boadicea did it to a column of the Ninth Legion, annihilating them completely. It was just a matter of training.
After some hours of searching, I found the perfect place to drill my men in the art of the ambush. A dirt track wound its way up from the valley towards the hills, and straightened out between two fairly even slopes. The crest of the hills that overlooked the track had thick woods that offered excellent cover. At this time of year small buds had started to grow, but nothing more, so the attackers would have to lie down until the last possible moment. Normally an ambush can defeat a body of men that outnumbers it, so the ambushers would all wait on one side for their prey. However, so that as many men as possible could observe, I split my command into four. Half of Bormo’s men would face half of Carnunnos’s, who would be stationed on both hills, while the other units would watch from the cover of the trees.
The preparations were made. I gave Bormo the simple order to march into the hills and to defend his unit. To have them march uphill for an hour would make the experience more realistic. Obviously we gave the men the sticks that they used for training, but otherwise I wished to make the exercise as lifelike as possible.
The Last Caesar Page 9
