Marius' Mules

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Marius' Mules Page 18

by S. J. A. Turney


  “He’ll tell you no more Marcus. Look at him. Personally, I want to know how the hell he managed to get into our cavalry. Surely the Aedui auxiliaries must have known he wasn’t one of them. I’ve got several men questioning them, but I doubt we’ll find anything out.”

  They stepped out and the provost closed and barred the gate behind them.

  “I’ll head back to my men now. Have fun with Caesar.”

  Fronto grunted and walked off in the direction of the Tenth and his own tent.

  * * * * *

  Caesar’s headquarters tent had been decked out in all its finery when Fronto arrived. The standards and flags of the legions were present, along with a huge map of the whole Empire painted on animal hide that hung behind Caesar. The staff officers had been directed to various seats around the rear of the tent to either side of the general.

  Fronto had been the last to arrive, slightly late, and Caesar had given him a disapproving glance that he currently felt disinclined to care about. He had taken his seat to the far right. A spare chair sat between him and the others, and he wondered why until Balbus entered the tent, bowing slightly. It made sense, really. Balbus had been dealing with Gauls and had been stationed among them for a long time now. Consequently, he was by far the most conversant with their ways among the Roman command.

  Much as Fronto didn’t want to be here, in a political conference with their Gaulish allies and among the staff, he reminded himself that he had a vested interest in the proceedings. The quartermasters had warned all of the most senior officers of impending supply problems. The shipments of corn that Caesar had arranged up the River Saone were now very much out of the legions’ reach, since the army had followed the Helvetii far from the course of the river. The supplies in the baggage train had therefore fallen low and were being stretched already. With weeks at least of campaigning ahead of the army, this could prove a serious problem.

  The weather had picked up a great deal recently, but the climate here was not the same as home, and the corn in the fields of Gaul would not be ripe for a long time yet, so there was little hope of commandeering supplies on their march. Forage was keeping meat and fruit supplies above the bare minimum, but if supplies of corn were not forthcoming soon, the army would slowly begin to starve and would be forced to abandon the campaign. To this end, Caesar had prevailed upon the Aedui, as allies of Rome, to supply the army with corn.

  The Aedui, eager to sustain their alliance, and mindful of the large army campaigning in their territory, had readily agreed. However, it had been several days since the promise, and nothing had yet been produced. In around a week’s time, the legions were due their next rations, and there would not be enough corn to meet the demand. It was a worrying situation looming in the minds of all the officers. Fronto had had enough on his mind recently without thinking of such matters and had left it in the hands of Priscus, but couldn’t shirk the responsibility any more.

  Daily, scouts had been sent out to the larger Aedui settlements, asking what was happening with the promised corn, and daily the scouts came back bearing the same message: It would take more time. The Aedui were collecting it, but it was a huge task and required more time.

  Thus the staff were here, waiting for the representatives of their allies.

  A legionary approached the tent’s open doorway, bowing deeply.

  “The Aedui are here, General. Shall I allow them to approach?”

  Caesar nodded and the collective officers shuffled apprehensively in their seats. A great deal depended upon this meeting.

  The seven tribal leaders were ushered in, each handing their weapons to the waiting servants by the doorway. The weapons were taken to a cupboard in one corner, where they were stored carefully. Other servants produced seven seats, placing them opposite the officers, lowered the leather tent flaps and tied them together before leaving. The Aedui bowed to the Romans and then took their seats.

  Fronto recognised only two of the chieftains. They had both spent some time in camp. Divitiacus had, in fact, been with them now for a while, in charge of the Aedui military contingent. Fronto made a mental note to have a quiet word with him afterwards concerning the assassin among his men. The other chieftain that he knew, a giant with long red hair and a thick beard, was named Liscus. He remembered being told in some previous briefing that Liscus was the top man among the Aedui, akin to the Consuls of Rome.

  Caesar waited a moment for one of the few remaining servants to pour wine for all present. Fronto lifted his cup and inhaled the heady aroma. A quick sip confirmed his suspicion. This was a very high quality wine from Latium. He doubted most soldiers could afford even the smallest jar on a week’s wages. Caesar was not only reminding them of the benefit of Roman culture, but also of how much Rome valued its allies.

  “Where is my corn, gentlemen?”

  Short. Curt. Not even particularly polite.

  The Aedui sat in silence for a moment. Fronto noticed several of them exchanging worried glances, among them Divitiacus and Liscus.

  Pausing only long enough for shame-faced looks to creep across the ambassadors, Caesar jabbed a finger at the map of the local terrain that lay on the campaign table in front of him.

  “We cannot gather unripe corn from around us, particularly in the face of our enemy. We cannot reach our own supplies of it. Our one small request from our staunchest of allies was help in producing supplies. We know that the Aedui have plenty of corn in storage. You can be sure that if we were unsure of your ability to survive on it yourself, we would not have requested it. However, we are here, shedding Roman blood in copious quantities to ensure the safety of your lands and your people from the marauding Helvetii. Why, in the act of defending the Aedui, are we forsaken by them?”

  Caesar sat a moment longer, waiting as the chiefs glanced at each other. Suddenly Fronto realised that he felt sorry for them. His General may have qualities that worried him, but the man had power and presence aplenty.

  “Answer me!”

  Liscus stood, sharply. He bowed slightly to Caesar, and spoke in perfect Latin.

  “Great Caesar, my companions and I deeply regret any trouble that we have caused your army. We have no wish to anger our allies. We are delayed not through our own desire, but due to other matters occurring among the Aedui.”

  Caesar frowned and glared at Liscus.

  “Explain.”

  Swallowing nervously, Liscus continued.

  “Caesar, there is sedition among my people. We are chieftains, and yet there are private men with more influence over our people. These men are persuading the people of our tribe to delay or halt their gathering of corn.”

  Caesar’s frown deepened and a thin film of sweat began to form on Liscus’ brow. The general motioned with only a finger for the chief to go on.

  “These men are unsure of the value of our alliance with Rome; some even favour the Helvetii. They are disheartened by such a great Roman presence in Gaul and fear for our future freedom. They feel that at least with the Helvetii they would be free.”

  Balbus motioned to Caesar and the general nodded.

  The older legate stood.

  “Liscus, I have known the Helvetii for a long time. They are not a people to trust or to bargain with lightly. You put the case very eloquently. I am unsure whether you are relaying the words of these rebels or perhaps declaring your own views?”

  Sitting back, he watched the chieftain intently.

  Liscus raised his hands in supplication.

  “I assure you, all of you, that I and these others remain loyal to our alliance. Should you wish we will take the oath again in order to allay your fears?”

  Caesar glanced at Balbus, and then shook his head.

  “That is unnecessary. Your word is enough. Tell us more of this problem.”

  Liscus staggered slightly and sank into his chair once more.

  “Some of our people fear that you are not intent on disempowering the Helvetii; that you delay too long. They also worry tha
t when you do deal with the Helvetii you will then turn upon the Aedui and the whole of Gaul. They fear that Rome intends us to be another of its provinces like Spain or Africa.”

  Caesar nodded, and Fronto could quite understand their fears. Indeed, they were well-founded fears. Fronto could not imagine the General settling for anything less than total domination.

  Caesar addressed the Aedui again.

  “Rome will always deal with those who quarrel with her. We will also always protect those who call themselves allies. You need have no fear of Roman aggression unless your tribe chooses to bear arms against us.”

  Yes, Fronto thought, but how long would it be before Caesar engineered an argument with the Aedui that would cause the alliance to break down?

  Liscus cleared his throat and continued.

  “I place my trust, as always, in Rome. These men in our tribe, however, go beyond blocking our attempts to supply you with corn. They spread rumour and lies and report everything they hear to the Helvetii. We have all tried to pin these men down and deal with them, but they are elusive. We had hoped to deal with the problem before it ever became large enough to cause you distress. We have failed in that and we must apologise.”

  Fronto gestured to Caesar and was given permission to speak. Sipping his wine quickly, he stood.

  “Liscus, this problem is much larger than you may be aware. A Gaul, serving with the cavalry as Aedui, has already turned traitor and killed a senior officer. He seems to be a Helvetian, but it remains to be seen how such a man managed to join our cavalry without being given away by your tribesmen. He is in our custody and faces judgement soon. If what you say is true, then there may be more. This puts our trust in any of our allied cavalry at risk.”

  Liscus nodded and spoke with a dry mouth.

  “I was not aware of such an incident, but it does not greatly surprise me. I would have brought the matter to your attention long before this, but I have put my neck beneath the sword merely by speaking of it. I will now be in considerable danger myself; even in my own town; my own house.”

  Fronto had not been paying attention to Liscus for a moment and became aware, as silence fell on the group, that Caesar was watching him. The legate had, in fact, been watching Divitiacus quite closely. Something about this had seemed wrong, and he was trying to piece it together. As he had watched Divitiacus, the man had started to look increasingly nervous, developing an unbidden twitch.

  “Is something wrong, legate?”

  Fronto stood and stared a moment longer at the nerve-ridden chieftain.

  “If you’ll permit me sir?”

  Caesar nodded.

  Fronto singled out Divitiacus and gestured him to rise; a demeaning treatment for a man who was, theoretically, at least an equal.

  Divitiacus rose instantly, shaking slightly.

  “You are in overall command of all our allied auxiliaries, yes?”

  The chieftain nodded at Fronto.

  “And you should, by rights, pay very careful attention to whom you enlist into our service. Particularly in view of the dissent in your tribe.”

  The man nodded again, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down in his throat like a float on a fisherman’s line.

  “And yet your rebels manage to infiltrate the cavalry. You are a well-placed and wealthy man, are you not?”

  Divitiacus nodded again. He was sweating profusely now.

  “Are you prepared to swear an oath of loyalty to Rome again?”

  Divitiacus nodded hurriedly. He opened his mouth to speak, but his voice came out an incoherent croak.

  Liscus was now looking agog at his fellow chieftain.

  He rounded on Divitiacus and said something very quickly in their own language. Two other chieftains stood, their hands dropping unbidden to where their weapons should have been.

  Liscus turned once more, addressing Caesar directly.

  “General, may I request a private audience?”

  Caesar frowned, but Liscus added “Please. Myself and Divitiacus; you and this officer.”

  He gestured at Fronto.

  Fronto looked at Caesar and nodded encouragingly.

  The general sat back and sighed.

  “Very well. Gentlemen, you are dismissed for the time being. Procillus?”

  One of the staff officers stood to attention.

  “Take our allies and your fellow officers to the staff mess and entertain them for a short while.”

  “Yes General.”

  * * * * *

  Once the chieftains had collected their arms, they and the staff officers trooped out of the tent, one of the servants holding the flap open for them. As soon as they had gone, the tent flap was tied back in place and the four remaining men eyed each other warily.

  Liscus spoke first, addressing Fronto.

  “Legate, your fears may be well-founded, but a little misplaced. Divitiacus is as loyal to our alliance as any man I know.”

  The other chieftain nodded vigorously, sweat still pouring from his face.

  “It is his brother that is now in doubt. Dumnorix has long been a wealthy man and coveted power among the Aedui. His purse has grown fat from taxes gathered and contracts won by the fear that he instils in the lowest people. Not only this, but he has won the heart and mind of many a well-placed man through gifts and flattery. I had not realised how far his ambitions reached, but now it is all too clear.”

  Fronto frowned.

  “Dumnorix. I know that name.” He cradled his chin in one hand as his mind stretched back over the last few weeks, trying to picture Dumnorix and where they had met.

  Divitiacus spoke for the first time, his voice still croaky and scratched; his Latin shaky at best.

  “General, I not want to tell this. Dumnorix my brother. Family. I am in shame for him, but he still my brother.”

  Caesar nodded gravely.

  “Go on. Tell me about your brother.”

  “He wealthy and people like him. He have horsemen. His own horsemen. Plenty horsemen. He influence more than Aedui. Other tribes like him. Bituriges like him. He related to them now because of mother. His wife from Helvetii so he like them. He hate Romans for getting in way, and for making me more powerful than him. He think if Romans leave, Helvetii help him be lord of all Aedui. He think if Romans win, he become nothing.”

  Liscus stared at him.

  “How long were you thinking of keeping this from me? This man wants to replace me!”

  Divitiacus lowered his head in shame.

  Caesar looked at Fronto.

  “Legate, you’ve heard of this Dumnorix?”

  Fronto looked up from his reflection. Understanding dawned on him, and he looked at Liscus for confirmation.

  “Dumnorix is the man in charge of our allied cavalry contingent, isn’t he?”

  Liscus nodded.

  Fronto turned back to Caesar.

  “I think that the mystery of our over-eager cavalry has been solved. Dumnorix must be the man who gave the orders for both the suicidal charge and for the assassination.”

  Caesar nodded sadly.

  “I think, gentlemen, that this Dumnorix had better present himself unarmed to the camp provosts for investigation and possible trial. See to it, Fronto.”

  Fronto smiled a cold and vicious smile.

  “Yes sir!”

  Liscus stood hurriedly, holding out both his hands in a placating gesture.

  “Please. Dumnorix has wronged you, yes, but he has also wronged us and the whole of the Aedui people. If you will allow us to prosecute him, I will immediately arrange for the corn supplies to be delivered to your men.”

  Caesar frowned at the chieftain.

  “You think to bargain by promising again what was already promised? Dumnorix should stand trial under Roman law.”

  “I meant no insult, Caesar. We would not ask to try one of your men. We trust enough in your justice for that. Please trust in the Aedui to try our own.”

  Caesar sat for long moments. He looked at F
ronto, who nodded reluctantly.

  “Very well. You may take Dumnorix and try him, but when judgement is called for, Romans, including myself and the legate here, will make up half of the jury in redress for the wrongs he has done us. I trust that is acceptable?”

  Liscus nodded.

  “That is fair, Caesar.”

  Divitiacus once more stood and approached Caesar.

  “Caesar. I long respect Rome. Want to be friend of Rome. But want brother to live. Romans often kill in punishment. Please not kill Dumnorix.”

  Fronto suddenly straightened up and approached Caesar’s chair. Leaning down, he whispered in the General’s ear.

  “Sir, if we can arrange to let him go with suitable lesser punishments, we can have him watched. There’s bound to be more of them than just him, and this could be our perfect chance to sniff them out. If he dies, any information he has dies with him.”

  Caesar nodded.

  “Divitiacus, I am not predisposed to be generous or even lenient to a man who has wronged us as your brother has. However, it is important that you control and be seen to control your own people. Very well. We will not ask for the death penalty at the trial.”

  Liscus bowed.

  “Very well Caesar. We will apprehend Dumnorix and arrange everything. As soon as it is organised, we will send a messenger to you.”

  Divitiacus also bowed, and the pair of them collected their weapons and waited for the servant to lift the tent flap before exiting.

  As soon as they were alone, Caesar smiled at his legate.

  “Very good, Marcus. We can both win on this. Rome gets a trial for treason that will help us root out any other dissenters and bind the Aedui ever closer to our cause. In return I feel I can safely grant you your request to deal with the assassin personally.”

  Fronto grinned and made to rise as Caesar continued.

  “I will, however, impose a couple of restrictions myself. I will not, as I said, countenance any of my senior staff officers endangering themselves needlessly. Should you entertain a one-on-one fight with the man, I will have archers stationed discretely. He will not leave the field alive, and you will not be allowed to die.”

 

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