Marius' Mules

by S. J. A. Turney

  “That’s just as we found them.”

  Fronto and Velius swayed in the saddle for a moment before moving slowly down the low slope and into the grisly scene. The smell was torture and the buzzing of flies was loud enough to make it hard to think.

  Half a dozen large wooden stakes, branches even, had been driven into the ground. Tied to each were men; Romans and judging by their tunics, cavalrymen. Their armour and weapons were gone, as were their faces and their arms below the elbows. Their heads had been stripped of flesh, not by animals, but by a rough, knife-like tool. Their torsos had been opened up and the contents allowed to fall out to the ground in front of them in heaps that, despite the several days they had hung there, still glistened. Fronto felt himself growing light-headed and imagined he was probably now as pale as Ingenuus. Velius didn’t look too good either.

  “Did you know them? Are they from your ala?”

  The prefect shook his head.

  “None of ours are missing. Besides, how would we identify them even if they were mine? That’s not all though…”

  Ingenuus pointed across the dell, behind the bodies. A fire pit of considerable size lay there, though the blaze had long since burned out and the residue was cold. As he gazed across at the pit, Fronto began to make out shapes in the ash. It took him a long moment to realise that they were horses.

  “Minerva save us, they gutted and maimed the riders and then burned the horses? What kind of animals are these people? Is this some kind of German carnarium?”

  Ingenuus’ face had taken on a particularly hard look.

  “Germans, sir. And bastards. We’re going to make them pay, yes?”

  Velius nodded.

  “Oh yes. We’ll get them for this. But who are they if they’re not ours?”

  Fronto tapped his temple with an index finger.

  “Who do you think they are? Who could they be but the messengers Longinus and Caesar have been sending us? No wonder we’ve never heard anything. They must have kept them imprisoned until they were ready to move, then done this to them.”

  Ingenuus swallowed again.

  “I’ll have some of my lads come and clean the place up and perform the proper burials.”

  Velius shook his head.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea. Let the infantry handle it. These are cavalrymen and I think my boys are a bit more detached. Don’t want them getting stupid ideas of revenge.”

  Fronto nodded.

  “He’s right. I don’t think we want to let your men know just yet. Remember what happened with the Helvetii. We don’t want to get them so tightly wound that they’ll get themselves into trouble. I do want the three of us to search the place first, though. We’ll take back anything military or personal we can find before anyone clears up.”

  The three began to move among the mess, scouring the ground for anything of value or importance. After a few minutes of searching, Velius shouted them over to the fire pit.

  There, along with the remains of the animals and the charred effects of the troopers, was a pile of charred scrolls, the wax seals melted onto the carbonised paper. Velius was about to reach down and pick one up, when Ingenuus grasped his wrist.

  “You can’t pick them up. They’ll just turn to dust in your fingers. Try to make out what you can where they are. We should be able to make something of them.”

  The three moved around the pile of charred papers, squinting at the mess and trying to decipher words that were defined only as a darker patch on the charcoal grey.

  “It says something here about the Suevi. Aren’t they a German tribe?”

  Fronto nodded, grateful that he’d read up so carefully on the tribes in the command tent over the last few months.

  “The Suevi are a sizeable tribe, but they’re not with Ariovistus.”

  Velius shook his head pointing to a parchment roll.

  “They will be soon. They’re crossing the Rhine. I think Caesar’s set off with the army to meet them. That’s what this looks like to me.”

  Ingenuus nodded.

  “Here’s the orders for you, sir, telling you to get the hell out of there and meet the army somewhere. I can’t tell where. The rest of it’s too far gone. What do you want to do, sir?”

  Fronto frowned.

  “If the Suevi are coming to join the party, Caesar’ll have his hands full. Ingenuus, you’ve scouted this area a lot. What’s that way?”

  He gestured in the direction that Ariovistus’ army had taken.

  The cavalry prefect thought for long moments.

  “Nothing immediate. Certainly nothing for at least ten miles. Although there is a big town out that way, quite a long way. I think it’s the Sequani’s capital.”

  Fronto slapped his forehead.

  “Vesontio!”

  He turned and grasped Ingenuus’ shoulder plate.

  “Vesontio’s huge and very easily defended and it’s probably better supplied than Bibracte. If Ariovistus takes Vesontio and the Suevi join him, it’ll take every man Rome can supply to remove him. Shit! Caesar’s marching the wrong way. He’ll beat the Suevi, but by then Ariovistus will be in the best position to be found in eastern Gaul! We’ve got to ...”

  A neighing noise stopped him in mid sentence. Two German warriors on horseback had just crested the ridge. They surveyed the scene for a moment, then spotted the Romans and wheeled their mounts. Fronto shouted at the others.

  “They can’t get away. Velius, get back to the cohort and send scouts off to Caesar with this news. Prefect, we’re on!”

  As Velius galloped off in the direction of the unit, Ingenuus jumped onto his horse in a swift move, quickly overtaking Fronto, who was less practiced in the saddle. The two raced up the hill after the Germans. It struck Fronto as they rode, that this might be a bad idea. What if they followed to the two straight into the waiting arms of a thousand German cavalry?

  Cresting the hill, they could see the two ahead of them. Willing his horse on, Fronto tried to keep up with the prefect. Slowly they began to gain ground on the Germans when suddenly the one on the left veered away from his companion. Fronto swore and then shouted to Ingenuus.

  “Keep on the other. I’ll take this one.”

  Leaning in the saddle, Fronto drove his mount as hard as he could. Again, slowly he began to gain distance. The German kept turning to look over his shoulder at his pursuer and, failing to notice an incline while he was doing so, almost became unhorsed. His steed bucked and whinnied as it tried to keep steady on the treacherous slope and Fronto knew that he had his man now.

  Coaxing the horse on, he ploughed down the slope at a pace the animal could handle, mere yards behind his quarry. Realising that there was no way he could reach the man with his short infantry blade, he pulled alongside the man as best he could, judged the distance and, pulling up his knees so that his feet rested on the saddle, hurled himself at the surprised German.

  The two tumbled to the ground, Fronto landing on top of the man. Hurriedly he drew his blade, ready to cut the German before he could properly fight back but noticed as he raised the sword the unpleasant angle at which the man’s head lay and the trickle of dark blood running from the corner of his mouth.

  He stood and, with only a little work, retrieved both horses. Heaving the body of the German onto one, he tied its reins to his own saddle horn and began to ride back up the slope.

  After around a quarter of a mile he saw Ingenuus, leading a spare horse.

  “What happened to him?”

  “He went in the river sir. A few sharp rocks and a sword blow. He washed far downstream before I could even dismount. I think we can count him as gone sir.

  Fronto smiled without a trace of humour.

  “Good. Let’s get back to the men and get on the trail of Ariovistus. We should meet up with Caesar at Vesontio or at least this side of it if the general gets our message and detours. So long as we get there before the Germans.”

  “And if we don’t?”

  �
�If we don’t, we’re walking into one hell of a problem.”

  Chapter 15

  (Forest clearing twenty miles from Ariovistus’ fortress)

  “Turma: A small detachment of a cavalry ala consisting of 32 men led by a decurion.”

  “Ludus: 1) a game, 2) a Gladiatorial School.”

  “German scouts!”

  The cavalryman rode out of the late afternoon sunlight and into the column at high speed. Fronto and Velius came running from the vanguard and met Ingenuus as he arrived on the scene. The cavalry trooper had slid from his horse and stood to a close approximation of attention. Fronto thought he looked a little unsteady until the man turned slightly and he saw the shaft of a rough arrow protruding from his back.

  “Capsarius!”

  Fronto jogged forward to the wounded trooper.

  “For Gods’ sake sit down man before you fall.”

  “Sir, I need to report…”

  Fronto waved the words away.

  “You can report while the capsarius looks at you.”

  The trooper, dropping painfully and carefully to his knees, shook his head.

  “No sir. Won’t wait. There’s around twenty German scouts less than a mile away. I would estimate Ariovistus’ entire army can’t be more than two or three miles. If their scouts know we’re here now sir, we’d best either get out of here fast or get set for battle.”

  Fronto sighed.

  “You leave that to me.”

  A capsarius appeared and knelt next to the trooper. He reached round behind him and gingerly touched the shaft of the arrow. A small trickle of blood came out from below the entry wound. Ingenuus frowned.

  “How many in your scouting party?”

  “Three sir.”

  “And you’re the only one who made it?”

  The trooper nodded and then winced at the pain the movement caused.

  “Am I going to die?”

  The capsarius looked up at the officers from where he knelt behind the man and made ‘unlikely’ motions at them.

  “I don’t think so lad. These Gaulish arrows are fairly narrow-bladed, without barbs. There’s not a massive blood flow and your complexion’s good, so I don’t think it pierced an organ. You’re going to be out of action for a while though.”

  He turned to the nearest legionary.

  “Help me get him in a cart.”

  Another soldier brought the nearest baggage cart around and halted the horses near the wounded man. Velius whacked his vine staff on the side of the cart in anger.

  “We’ve got too close to them. We should’ve given them a wider berth. Now they know we’re here they might just consider it worth the delay to turn round and do for us.”

  Fronto sighed.

  “It was my decision, Lucius; my fault. I didn’t think we could spare any more time. We’ve got to get to Vesontio. If we don’t get past the Germans soon, we’ll end up with them between us and the rest of the army. We’ll just have to pick up speed again.”

  Velius growled.

  “We can’t pick up any more speed. The troops are moving as fast as they can. They’re exhausted. It’s late afternoon and by rights we’d normally be making camp shortly. We can’t do with weeks of three hours rest a night.”

  “Lucius, they’re going to have to move faster. Exhausted is better than dead. Ingenuus.”

  The cavalry prefect turned to face him.

  “Sir?”

  “Have one of your decurions take a turma and ride like the wind for Vesontio. See if the rest of the army has reached there yet. If they have, detail our situation to Caesar, Longinus and Priscus, the primus pilus of the Tenth.”

  “Yes sir.”

  “Oh, and have the scouts pull back in to a visible radius. I don’t want any more losses like that.”

  As Ingenuus ran off to take care of the task, Velius turned to his commander.

  “Sir, the troops would be able to move faster if they could dispose of their tools and entrenching gear. It’s not like we’re going to have time to build marching camps between here and Vesontio.”

  Fronto nodded.

  “Have them put the gear in the carts with the rest of the baggage. How far is Vesontio d’you reckon?”

  Velius tapped his chin.

  “I really don’t know. Too far?”

  Fronto looked back at the cavalry scout who was being loaded onto the cart by the capsarius and another soldier.

  “How much faster do you think the cavalry are capable of moving than the cohort?”

  The trooper winced as he bumped down into the cart.

  “At least twice as fast, maybe three times. A lot more if we can change horses, but we don’t have fresh horses here.”

  The legate smiled.

  “Late afternoon. Making camp.”

  Velius raised an eyebrow. He knew that smile all too well.

  “What are you thinking?”

  “The Germans are only moving as fast as us because they travel very light and don’t have a lot of baggage with them. They’re all warriors, not a tribe like the Helvetii with their women, children, the old and all the baggage. They don’t know there’s Romans ahead of them, so they’re in no hurry, are they? They presumably camp down properly every night.”

  Velius shrugged.

  “I would have thought so, yes. You’ve got a plan, haven’t you?”

  Nodding, Fronto grinned at Velius.

  “Is it insane by any chance?”

  Another nod.

  Velius started to grin back.

  “Tell me.”

  “The Germans have a fairly strong cavalry arm. They must corral their horses at night. We just have to work out a way to get around three hundred horses out and back to the cohort without getting the whole German nation on our heels.”

  Velius nodded.

  “Then we might as well let the column rest here for now. No use us getting the horses if we can’t find the cohort afterwards.”

  “Agreed. Give the orders and then meet me over by that copse of trees off to the left.”

  As Velius walked off to the signifer to give the orders for making camp, Fronto scanned the line for Ingenuus. The prefect was briefing one of his decurions a few yards away.

  “Ingenuus!”

  The prefect looked round at his name being called and saw Fronto walking towards him.

  “Sir?”

  “Belay that order.”

  He turned to the decurion who was arranging the riders.

  “No message needs to be sent right now. Instead I just want a small unit sent out, giving the Germans a suitably wide berth, to ride to Vesontio and see if the army’s there yet. If they are, inform the commanders that we’re on the way, but the Germans will be close behind us, yes?”

  The decurion mounted his horse again.

  “Yes sir. I’ll do it right away.”

  Fronto turned back to Ingenuus.

  “I want you to join me and Velius in a touch of planning.”

  By the time the two had walked over to the copse, the grizzled centurion was already there, making marks in the earth at the foot of the tree with his vine staff.

  “I’ve been giving some thought to the problem. Removing the guards quietly might be a bit of a problem, but the big trouble comes when we try and shift three hundred horses quietly.”

  Ingenuus stared at the centurion.

  “What?”

  Fronto grinned.

  “We’re going to get the whole cohort mounted. Put them on German horses and then try to reach Vesontio in less than half the time.”

  He smiled at Ingenuus, who continued to stare in stunned amazement at the centurion.

  “What we need you to do is figure that problem out. Three hundred horses, quietly and quickly.”

  He turned to Velius.

  “We’re obviously going to have to be sneaky. No armour or shields. I think the only weapon we should take is a pugio. We can’t afford to get drawn into a proper fight anyway, so just something f
or a quick, quiet kill.”

  Velius nodded.

  “We’ve got a few auxiliary archers with us, but they’d make too much noise. I think there’s some Balearic slingers too, though. They’d be useful.”

  “Indeed. We don’t want a large group to go in though. I reckon about a dozen. The sneakiest bastards you can find. Sneaky, mind you, not mad. We don’t need the lunatics you like to hang around with; those mad bastards who charged the rocks when the Helvetii were entrenched.”

  He was greeted with a warm smile.

  “We don’t need Nonus and Curtius, sir. We’ve got plenty of prize sneaky bastards in our cohort. Just give me an hour and I’ll bring ‘em back here dressed just right. You’ll think you’re looking at a bunch of burglars and bandits from the backstreets of the Aventine back in Rome.”

  Fronto looked up at the sky.

  “Light’s starting to fade. We’ll set off in about an hour and a half. Ingenuus, what d’you think?”

  The cavalry prefect shook his head, his eyes still wide with disbelief every time he looked at the others.

  “Commander Longinus said he thought I’d be good for this assignment, but he did ask me if I thought I would. He said, and I quote here sir so no offence intended, that ‘the leaders of the Tenth are dangerous, idiotic and possibly insane’. I think I’m beginning to see what he means.”

  The other two grinned wildly at him. Velius snorted.

  “Don’t have a problem with that. To the Tenth, that’s probably a compliment!”

  Fronto laughed.

  “Anyway, true confessions aside, have you any ideas?”

  Ingenuus shrugged.

  “To move three hundred horses quietly and quickly, the only really feasible way is to have three hundred riders standing by. My only suggestion is that the cohort looks after our horses here and the entire ala follows you in on foot, keeping far enough back to prevent discovery. As soon as it’s clear for them, they mount up and ride the horses back here.”