Marius' Mules

by S. J. A. Turney

  He became aware that Longinus and Balbus were waving their hands, gesturing Fronto to lower his voice, and shushing him.

  Fronto was grinning like a maniac. In a lower voice, he continued.

  “We’ll be here for a few days, then. The army’ll be on standby from tomorrow, but we’ll still be here. Boys, I think we can relax for a bit. No more chasing the buggers. Now we just have to wait for them.”

  Balbus smiled and nodded. Longinus rose from the seat and went to the gate to thank the innkeeper for his discretion. When he returned, he spoke to the others again.

  “Needless to say, you can’t breathe a word of this. Caesar doesn’t want any cock-ups, and it’ll be at least tomorrow morning before we’ll have confirmation that it’s worked. Until then, this is top secret.”

  The two legates nodded seriously, though the smiles continued to creep across them when they lowered their faces to drink again.

  As Fronto glanced toward the street, he saw Sabinus travelling back up, with a labourer carrying four empty sacks. The staff officer looked over at the legates. Fronto waved happily again, and Sabinus muttered something under his breath, flicking an uncivil gesture at the lounging officers.

  Fronto smiled.

  “I quite like that Sabinus, you know. For a senior staff officer, he’s not altogether a pointless upper-class twit.”

  Longinus smirked.

  “Unlike you, of course.”

  Balbus roared with laughter as the smile fell from Fronto’s face. He picked up his drinking mug, examined it, and dropped it quite heavily on Longinus’ knuckles where they lay flat on the table.

  “Oops.”

  Longinus muttered something unflattering concerning Fronto’s lineage and blew on his knuckles.

  “Bastard.”

  Fronto smiled.

  “That’s right; I’m a humourless bastard, not an upper-class twit.”

  Balbus picked up the fallen mug and set it upright, examining it briefly for cracks. Satisfied it was unbroken, he filled it to the brim, emptying the last few drops into Longinus’ mug before he set it down. Leaning round the corner, he called the innkeeper for more wine.

  “I know we’ve not been in the field long since I was stationed more-or-less permanently at Massilia and Geneva, but for some reason I’m enjoying this off-duty more than I ever enjoyed it in either of those places.”

  Fronto lifted his mug and toasted Balbus.

  “I’ll say.”

  For a moment a sad look crossed the older legate’s face. “Apart from Corvinia. I do miss her.”

  “Ah, but think of what’ll be waiting the conquering hero when you next see her, eh?”

  Fronto winked lewdly at Balbus.

  Longinus smiled. The sun rained down in shafts between the leaves. Birdsong filled the air above the ringing of blacksmith’s tools across the street, and all was right with the world for a short time.

  * * * * *

  Fronto awoke from his comfortable, warm sleep with a start. Someone was shaking him.

  “Mwahhh?”

  “I said wake up, sir. You’ll want to see this.”

  Fronto opened his eyes, blearily. The face of Priscus swam into view.

  “Piss off Gnaeus, there’s a good chap.”

  Priscus continued to shake him.

  “Honestly sir, you’re going to really want to see this.”

  Finally, way beyond hope of sleep, Fronto used his good arm to grasp Priscus’ elbow and pull himself upright.

  “Alright. Find my tunic and let’s go and see what the hoo-hah’s about.”

  Minutes later, the pair appeared at the doorway of the tent. Some time during the night a gentle shower had begun and, though the rain was still light and fine, several hours of precipitation had turned the ground into a mire. Picking their way around the edge of the tent on the drier, more solid ground, Fronto and Priscus trudged through drizzle to the edge of the slope. Only ten yards behind the tent, the walls of Bibracte rose high and powerful and ahead down the slope lay the arrayed tents of the Tenth Legion.

  Fronto looked at Priscus and shrugged.

  “Now what?”

  Priscus pointed off through the murk and into the distance beyond the legion’s camp.

  Fronto followed the primus pilus’ pointing finger and shaded his eyes from the fine rain. Around half a mile away from the edge of the encamped army, a column of men approached. Fronto strained to see a Vexillum or identify the soldiers.

  “Can’t quite make it out. Can you see?”

  Priscus grinned at him.

  “Don’t need to, sir. I know who they are. We saw them about a quarter of an hour ago and scouts were sent out. It’s the auxiliary units from Geneva sir.”

  “Geneva? What the hell are they doing here? I thought they were stationed there for good.”

  Priscus nodded.

  “I thought so too, but they’re here now.”

  Fronto stretched and the insistent rain trickled down his arm and into his tunic.

  “I’d best get dressed properly and head over to the headquarters. I need to find out what’s going on.”

  A quarter of an hour later, Fronto made his way out of his tent again, stepping round the steadily growing pool outside the doorway. Moving at a quick pace, with his red military cloak pulled tightly around him and rain running down his face, Fronto picked his way through the tents to the headquarters.

  By the time he reached Caesar’s tent, the late dawn sun was making a shoddy attempt to pierce the veil of rain. Stepping round the quagmire in front of the doorway, Fronto reached the entrance and was confronted by one of Caesar’s attendants.

  “Could you ask Caesar if I may see him?”

  The attendant smiled beatifically at him.

  “You are expected legate Fronto. Please enter.”

  Bedraggled and cold, Fronto stepped inside. Caesar sat in his campaign chair at the back of the main room, with several of the staff officers nearby, including Sabinus and Labienus. The legates of the other legions were here too. Standing in the centre, very wet and travel-worn, stood Tetricus, the tribune from the Seventh. He looked thin and slightly frail, but very much alive. He turned to the new arrival and his face, slightly pale and hollow cheeked, broke into a smile.

  “Fronto.”

  A simple greeting. Nothing more. Fronto stepped forward and the two locked arms in the age old fashion. Behind them, Crassus cleared his throat.

  “That will do tribune. This man is a superior officer.”

  As Tetricus obediently withdrew his hand, Fronto wheeled on the other legate.

  “This man is a hero and a friend. You can stick your superiority where the sun doesn’t shine, if it isn’t too tight!”

  Ignoring the blustering noises from Crassus, he turned back to Tetricus.

  “I … We all feared you were dead.”

  Before Tetricus could answer and before Crassus finally found a gap in his rage long enough to speak, Caesar leaned forward in his chair, his hands on his knees.

  “Gentlemen. I shall be calling a full staff briefing later this morning, but I think the time has come, particularly with the arrival of the Geneva units, to clear up a few matters. Their presence here has no doubt raised questions among you.”

  Caesar took a deep breath.

  “I requested the presence of the auxiliaries once I was sure that Geneva was no longer in danger from the Helvetii. Tetricus has brought most of them with him, leaving only four units under the command of Geneva’s decurions to defend the town from any possible incursion by the German peoples. When we next meet the Helvetii, I want the battle to be decisive.”

  He looked around at the gathered officers and gestured at Tetricus as he addressed them.

  “The tribune here has proved not only his worth as an officer, but also his value as a commander of fortification engineers and his valour on the field of combat. While there is still need for him at the rank of tribune and no available higher command, I have requested that he
take on the full-time responsibility of all major works of fortification for the army.”

  Caesar smiled and was about to continue when Fronto held up his hand.

  “General, I have had some experience dealing with the tribune in his work, and I feel that I value him higher than some.”

  He glanced over his shoulder at Crassus.

  “I would like, if the tribune gives his consent, to request his transfer to the Tenth.”

  Crassus began to bluster again, his face turning a vaguely purple colour. Fronto sighed. He was just destined to make political enemies.

  Tetricus grinned at Fronto.

  “I would like that very much sir.”

  Caesar smiled at the young officer, then at the gently steaming form of Crassus.

  “Crassus, I would not transfer one of your men without your consent. Do I have it?”

  Crassus nodded, his face grim.

  “I wouldn’t have the man in my legion, Caesar, bearing in mind his appalling manners and his disturbing failures of loyalty.”

  The general leaned forward in his seat and jabbed a finger at the young legate.

  “You may be a legate, Crassus, but that is at my whim. Your lineage has put you in a strong position, but it does not excuse rudeness and accusations. Tetricus has served with nothing but loyalty and courage, and if Fronto values him, then I value him, it’s as simple as that. I have known and trusted Fronto for longer than you have lived. See to your legion and get out of my sight.”

  As Crassus left hurriedly and with a look of distress, Caesar turned back to the room.

  “Very well, once this meeting is over, Tetricus will report to Fronto and take his position with the Tenth. Now, onto other matters.”

  Caesar gestured at the map.

  “There may have been rumours circulating in the last day or so about deserters among the auxiliary cavalry. These were carefully staged incidents that have allowed us to infiltrate the Helvetii and to feed them false information. These ‘deserters’ will join the column again shortly, once their task is complete.”

  Fronto registered the looks of surprise on the faces of his fellow officers with some satisfaction.

  “Their task, as you might now guess, was to convince the Helvetii that our army is in retreat due to lack of supplies, and to bring them back towards us and force them to join battle with us. This they have achieved. My outlying scouts report the Helvetii just less than a day’s travel away from us, giving us today to prepare and tonight to relax. The army should be fully positioned and rested when the Helvetii actually arrive.”

  Fronto smiled quietly to himself. The excited muttering among the officers spoke volumes for the army’s morale.

  The general sat back in his chair and cradled his hands.

  “I have given much thought to the end of this particular chase. I have always intended to destroy the Helvetii as a body, keeping survivors for the slave market in Rome. However, we are in Gaulish territory and may stay within it for some time yet. We have shown them, and will again, the might of Rome on the field of combat. Perhaps it is now time to show them why we call ourselves civilised.”

  A number of the officers stared at Caesar, wide-eyed and surprised. Longinus was the only one to speak out.

  “Caesar, the Helvetii cannot be trusted. They have wronged the Roman people, and they continue to wrong the rest of the tribes of this benighted land. They should be wiped out for the benefit of all mankind.”

  Caesar smiled a weary smile.

  “I understand your position, Longinus, but my mind is set. We have revenged the wrong they have done Rome. Fronto saw to that by the banks of the Saone. They must be broken for the good of our allies, but by no means am I expecting, or even desirous of, genocide. To eliminate all vestiges of the tribe would be to leave no one to rule, and no one to act as a buffer against the Germans. No, we need to break the Helvetii for good and put them back where they belong.”

  Caesar looked around the tent at the gathered officers. Attendants and servants went about their various tasks, almost invisible to the commanders. The general regarded the servants and made a gesture towards the doorway.

  “Out. All of you.”

  The officers dithered for a moment, unsure as to whether the general was referring to the servants or themselves. As the various attendants left the tent, Caesar leaned through the doorway and addressed the guards.

  “You two, move the guard line ten yards down the hill and keep everyone away from this tent.”

  The soldiers saluted and made their way down the slippery bank. Once they were well and truly alone, Caesar took his seat again.

  “Gentlemen, I would have preferred to have kept some of this under wraps as yet, but I suppose you’ll piece things together soon enough, probably wrongly, and I’d rather you had all the information than filled in the gaps with guesses. With the likelihood of a final encounter with the Helvetii looming, I need all of my officers to be prepared for subsequent action.”

  As the officers looked at each other questioningly, Fronto paid particular attention to Tetricus. The man looked tired, but he certainly didn’t look surprised. Whatever was afoot, Tetricus was already in the know. He looked round as he realised the General was talking again.

  “Once we have defeated the Helvetii, I intend to send them back to their lands near Geneva. That does not, however, herald the end of the campaign. The following information goes no further at this time, of course.”

  Nods and affirmative noises filled the tent. A redundant phrase, Fronto thought. Caesar had enough presence and power over these legions that the officers would betray the confidence of their own family before they would betray the General, whether that be through respect or through fear. He looked back across at his commander as the man continued.

  “There has been a great deal of movement on the German border over the past few months, while we have been campaigning against the Helvetii. In much the same way as the Helvetii have invaded lower Gaul and moved west, a number of German tribes under a man named Ariovistus have crossed the Rhine and settled in the lands of the Sequani to the west.”

  Caesar leaned forwards and unfurled the larger campaign map on the table once more.

  “These German tribes have been used as mercenaries by the Gauls for many years now, fighting for the Sequani and the Arverni against our allies the Aedui. That they have turned on their former employers and settled on their land is no concern of ours, but we cannot ignore the threat that they constitute to the stability of our alliances in Gaul. I anticipate a request for aid from certain quarters very soon.”

  The general paused a moment to allow all this fresh information to settle in.

  “Just as we will not allow the Helvetii to threaten our allies, nor will we give the Germans free reign. They must be kept on their own side of the Rhine. So, gentlemen, barring a miraculous turnaround by Ariovistus, we will be continuing our campaign in the field for the foreseeable future.”

  The muttering began once more. Caesar waited a minute longer, and then stood.

  “Gentlemen, I shall require your presence in two hours when we shall prepare our strategy for tomorrow and attend to the disposition of troops. In the meantime, find your legions and go about your duties. I want the entire army ready to manoeuvre into position by the time we have finished our next briefing. Dismissed.”

  As the officers made their way respectfully out of the tent, Caesar sat back once more.

  “Fronto? Stay a moment if you would.”

  The legate waited until the last of the staff had left and then closed the tent flaps for the general. As he turned, Caesar gestured to a chair.

  “Marcus, I need your advice.”

  “Sir?”

  Caesar shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

  “I am concerned over Geneva, Crassus, and the wisdom of long-term troop command and I want your honest thoughts.”

  Fronto sighed. It was going to be one of those conversations. He hadn’t had this kind
of talk with Caesar for some time now.

  “Firstly, sir, if you really want my honest advice, I’m going to have to speak quite plainly and openly with no fear of reprimand. Are you happy with that?”

  Caesar nodded.

  “You know I’ve always allowed you a measure of independence that I don’t extend to the rest of my staff.”

  Fronto shuffled in his seat and unhooked his cloak, letting it fall to the ground. He reached out and took the jug of wine from Caesar’s table and filled two glasses, offering one to the general, who accepted it readily.

  “As far as Geneva is concerned, how many units are stationed there again?”

  Caesar rubbed his chin, deep in thought.

  “There should still be four auxiliary units, two infantry, one cavalry and one mixed. They’re commanded by individual prefects under the general auspices of the decurions of Geneva.”

  Fronto furrowed his eyebrows.

  “Unless there’s a full-scale German invasion, that should be sufficient. I don’t think the Germans will come across the Helvetian territory any time soon. They’re too busy crossing the Rhine to the north. Besides, if the Germans launched any kind of large scale operation, even ten times that number would be unlikely to stop them.”

  He sighed.

  “Just in case, however, I would be tempted to send a message to Aquileia and raise the same number of troops again. I’d have a proper military officer assigned to them from the base at Aquileia and send them all to Geneva. That way you’d have a sizeable force under a proper commander that won’t cost too much to raise and won’t dig in to your reserves of regular soldiers. I’m intrigued to know why Tetricus is here with most of the force?”

  Caesar sighed.

  “A courier arrived a while back during our time by the Saone, when you were off trying to defeat the Helvetii on your own. Tetricus had received word of Ariovistus’ crossing of the Rhine and thought I would need to know. He also believed that Geneva was in absolutely no danger with the absence of the Helvetii and with the German tribes pushing northwest, away from there. He requested permission to rejoin the army, so I sent him a message telling him to join us with all speed and to set the auxiliaries off on the way. It was his idea to leave a small defensive force at Geneva. I didn’t think we particularly needed Tetricus there in command, so I brought him here. I gather that during his short stay in Geneva he was healing very quickly from his wound, but I see now that such a long journey has perhaps set his recovery back again. Perhaps in retrospect I should have told him not to come.”