The King of Rome

by Francis Mulhern

  “We must get closer to the marching army and support them” Marcus stated as his officers, grim-faced to a man, stood in silence. “This land is no good for a full-scale battle. We must take the luck of the gods and march towards Aemilius, taking any advantageous point we can and digging in the trenches as soon as we find the right spot.”

  “And what if we don’t find one” said a stern-faced officer called Laminitus. “We might find ourselves trapped by the Etruscan horde and with no support from the rear” he added, as men shuffled their feet and looked to the floor. “We cannot dig supporting trenches and fortifications in one hour, sir” he added quickly as Marcus glanced to him and nodded slowly at the words.

  Marcus tightened his jaw but took a moment to reply. In that time he saw the fear behind every eye that wouldn’t catch his own. Aemilius was fighting a marching retreat, a bad situation at the best of times, and one from which he and these men must provide respite before the remaining Legion came to their aide, an aide that the men around him clearly thought they couldn’t provide against as many as twenty thousand enemy soldiers. He took a slow breath as he let his gaze lift to the sky. The weather was hot, the sun starting the crawl towards mid-day. “I agree Laminitus” he said as he looked back to the officer. “We cannot build fortifications, but we can prepare for the battle that is sure to come.” He turned to Narcius. “Any news from the scouts regarding a good position ahead of us?” Narcius shook his head but the keenness in his eye told Marcus that the officers were all awaiting a decision.

  Marcus thought for a moment as he perused the scene ahead of them, a dusty road in a low sided valley. From the scouts reports this continued almost to the retreating Roman army. Thoughts ran through his mind, blurred shapes coming into focus as he considered what approach to take. The men looked at him in silence as he turned left and right and then looked to the sky. He knew that the Etruscan advantage of numbers limited the tactics they would use in battle, and if he could use their own tactics to plan ahead he may have a chance to break them. They would, likely, use their phalanx to pound the Roman front line with heavy spears and attempt to march over them using their vast numbers. Yet he knew that his manoeuvrability with his Eagles could have a chance if he chose the right terrain.

  “Laminitus” he said. “Do you think we could set out the men we have as a gate through which Aemilius’ men could filter and then deploy into their battle formation? We will become the front line, allow Aemilius to rest behind us and see if we can hold the enemy until the remaining Legion arrive.” At this Narcius smiled, but Laminitus was shaking his head.

  “Against twenty thousand men?”

  “Each Roman man is worth five Etruscan farmers, Laminitus. Behind our scorpions and our shield wall we can hold against ten times that number” Marcus responded in a cold voice, his gaze filled with iron. “They will fight in their deep phalanx and our soldiers can easily overcome them with covering fire from the scorpions” he added confidently.

  Laminitus allowed his bottom lip to protrude as he looked around at the other officers in thought. Laminitus was new to warfare and had never been behind a shield wall, his nervousness was evident to Marcus as he allowed the silence to stretch before the officer spoke. “I would like to be sure that they are, indeed, all farmers” he added as he let his mouth droop into a frown. “It seems that the farmers are doing very well against Aemilius’ rear guard” he added, his voice trailing to silence as he allowed his eyes to look directly at Marcus. Strangely, Marcus was grinning back at him.

  “Then let’s go and look” came the reply as Laminitus let his mouth drop open for a moment before snapping it shut. Marcus moved with a sudden purpose, his eyes darting around the men as his ideas formed. “Narcius, find a good spot to range the Legion across the track, create a walkway through which Aemilius’ men can move quickly and deploy. We must have space for the scorpions either side of the shield wall, horse supporting the flanks, a gap ten men wide to allow the army to enter and filter” he looked at Laminitus. “We will ride to Aemilius and tell him of our plans. If there are any changes we will send a rider back with further information. Let’s go and see these farmers for ourselves” he said as he slapped Laminitus on the shoulder and nodded briskly to Narcius. “You’re in charge until Ahala gets here, Narcius” he added. “Keep the men fresh, let them rest once you are happy with the defensive line. I’ll get Aemilius’ front line to move more quickly and set up behind you” he said as he looked around at the landscape once more. “This is as good a place as any to destroy the enemy.”

  ************

  Chapter 9

  Cincinnatus stepped from the shadows as Javenoli appeared, his face set hard as he approached. “Your message said it was urgent” Javenoli snapped, dispensing with any formalities.

  Cincinnatus nodded at the two bulky bodyguards flanking the Pontifex. Javenoli waved them away.

  “I have some information which I think we will both find valuable” he said in a hushed voice as the two men stood stiff and ill at ease. Cincinnatus’ message had been received less than a half hour earlier and hinted at problems which Javenoli could not avoid dealing with in person. The trip across the city to the Aventine had been made via various back streets with only a couple of guards and a thick hooded cloak in an attempt to avoid the hangers-on that his official robes and lictors brought.

  “Your message suggested that” Javenoli said tersely.

  “It seems your pet dog has been stirring up his clients” said the Senator as he moved a step closer, his eyes narrowing. “My man tells me that his meeting last night concluded with a call to arms by the followers of Jupiter” he caught Javenoli’s confused look. “Didn’t you know that this is what he is now calling all those that follow him?” he asked with a smile.

  Javenoli ignored the look on the face of Cincinnatus as he clenched his teeth. “Go on” he said menacingly.

  The smile on Cincinnatus’ face told Javenoli that he was enjoying this far too much. Cincinnatus looked around as if checking that they were not being watched, an impossibility as both men had thugs stationed at every point around them to keep away prying ears and eyes. His face returned to its natural calm façade as Cincinnatus continued. “Capitolinus has asked his followers to recruit more plebeians to their cause. He seems to have enough money to pay them to join his group” he said as his eyes seemed to question Javenoli. Ignoring his feigned question the Pontifex simply stared back at him in silence until he continued. “It also seems that he has called for his followers to watch certain noble men of rank and report back on their movements” he said, these words catching Javenoli’s attention. Cincinnatus grinned.

  “Has he now” Javenoli stated as he clasped his hands together tightly. “And whom might they be?” he added through his clenched teeth.

  “Here” said Cincinnatus. “My Man’s report. Better from the horse’s mouth, my friend.”

  Javenoli looked at the list, which included his own name and several others in his inner circle. What was Capitolinus playing at?

  After a few moments silence Javenoli looked up at Cincinnatus and nodded.

  “Want me to deal with him?” asked the senator with a wry smile.

  “I think I can deal with this in my own way” came the angry retort from the Pontifex as he gripped the report and looked back at Cincinnatus.

  “You will see my name is on that list” replied the half-shadowed face as Cincinnatus’ eyes narrowed. “If I have to respond, I will” he said with a scowl. “I won’t have my businesses interfered with by him or his idiot plebeian friends, Javenoli. Our business interests are safe, but this issue could cause problems.”

  “I know” snapped Javenoli, quickly biting back his anger as he forced a smile. “I’ll deal with it” he said as he took a slow breath. “The man is starting to nip like a leech” he said, almost to himself. He half turned, before coming back to face Cincinnatus. “Thank you” he said as he tapped the report with a curt nod.

  Ci
ncinnatus nodded in response, his mouth tightened into a long line. “Make no mistake Gaius” he said slowly. “If there is any attempt on any of my interests I will deal with this myself” he said. Javenoli simply nodded before turning and pulling the hood of his cloak over his head. Capitolinus had to be dealt with.

  ****

  After a dusty forty-minute ride the scene that awaited Marcus was better, initially, than he had expected. His group of riders had encountered two scouts as they rode quickly to Aemilius’ forces, both men telling them that the Etruscans had slowed their advance as the sun had risen in the sky, probably to do with the heat that had started to increase as the day stretched. An advance party of twenty riders were sent back to Narcius to support the men setting the Roman line and his own group had whipped their horses into a gallop to cover the last ten minutes until they reached the marching men of the second Legion. As the group approached the marching army Marcus saw that the men were ragged, not marching in tight order, some without shields, which were sat on slow moving carts every few hundred men along the line. Clearly this was supposed to make the burden easier for the men, but it was slowing them down, the oxen could only march at two or three miles an hour, a good legionary could manage four, maybe five at a push on good ground. He frowned, but held his tongue as he kept his horse moving forwards. Men cheered as he rode past them, voices called ‘Camillus’ and hands were raised to the sky as men watched him ride by.

  “Aemilius” Marcus called as the dust-covered face of the commander turned to stare at him a few minutes later, white teeth breaking through his dark-bearded face.

  “Camillus” he said, the relief evident on his face. “We are pleased to see you” he added quickly. “The gods themselves are against us” Aemilius said, suddenly, as Marcus ground his teeth at the words. “Everything we have done has failed, every action we have taken had led to losses” his voice sounded as if he was pleading, his eyes burying themselves into Marcus’ as he continued. “I’ve lost half the horse to slingers.” His eyes roved to the rear, over a half mile behind them. “I sent them out to try and catch the damned archers. The first two cohorts are gone, the third has lost half its number. I lost my first spear” he said dejectedly. Marcus bridled at the losses; his anger starting to build as he looked at the pathetic figure which sat slumped across the horse in front of him. A glance to his officers told Marcus all he needed to know. Every man had been infected with the melancholy that Aemilius exuded. Every face looked dejected and dour; every soldier around them gripped the hilt of their swords with white knuckles as the commander spoke, whether in anger at their losses or in frustration at their commander. Marcus held Aemilius in a firm stare before looking at the confused face of Laminitus, who sat atop his horse at his side.

  “Let us ride to the rear, Aemilius, and see how things stand” he said as he snatched a look to the officers around him. “Might I make a suggestion first?” he asked. Aemilius looked up with a puzzled expression before nodding. “Behind us the men are deploying as we speak, digging trenches and setting defences. Tell your men to march through the lines and deploy them where they are asked when they arrive. They must rest, eat and drink as soon as they reach the location where we await them. But first, remove the carts, give the men their shields and whip them, instead of the oxen, to pick up the pace and reach the location where we will deploy against these Etruscan farmers”. Aemilius was filled with indecision and glanced to the soldiers around him; Marcus could see fear in his eyes. Two of the closest officers glanced to each other, clearly the men who had suggested that the shields be put in the carts, thought Marcus. Noting them both, mentally, he turned back to Aemilius with raised eyebrows. The careworn expression and resigned look on Aemilius’ face caused Marcus’ heart to beat faster, something was clearly wrong.

  “Sir” said one of the junior officers. “The men won’t like it. They’ve already been talking about rebelling and returning home.”

  Before the man finished Marcus looked to Aemilius with thunder in his eyes before staring back at the officer, three thick armed brutes standing shiftily at his shoulder. “The men” he said as he slid from his horse, his body guards and Laminitus doing the same “will do as they are ordered”. He stared at the three thugs. “You three, why aren’t you with your cohorts?” he half shouted as the three men looked to each other and started to step backwards with a pleading look to the two officers. Marcus’ bodyguard drew their swords with a rasp. “Go now or I’ll string you to that tree” he spat as he flung an arm towards the tree line “and leave you for the Etruscans to skin”. The men glanced to the two junior officers, who were now nervously staring at each other; pale faced. The thugs turned and ran to catch up with the rest of the marching army. “We’ll deal with them later” Marcus snarled as his bodyguard stepped forwards to ensure the men around them were sure of their presence.

  “Aemilius, call five hundred men here now, your best. Rest them and allow the army to move through so that they become the rear guard. Give the rest of the men the order to pick up speed. Forget the oxen and the carts, let them loose, if the worst happens we will not need them” he allowed his glance to move back to the two officers, who were now looking shiftily at each other with a measure of fear on their faces. “You two” Marcus said as he pointed to both men “will join your commander, Laminitus, and I and see how things fare at the rear.” He looked back to Aemilius, who, again, looked quizzically at both officers, his eyes narrow as if he noticed something he had not noticed before. The two officers stepped forwards but Marcus turned to them and clenched his teeth. “Do as you are ordered or face the consequences” he growled as three of his guards stepped up beside the men and hemmed them in, with Laminitus moving to stand in front of them menancingly.

  “You should know, sir” said one of the officers. “The men aren’t happy, they think the gods have deserted us, sir. We’ve tried to help the commander, sir. Haven’t we, sir?” He shifted his gaze towards Aemilius.

  “I’m sure you’ve done what you thought was the right thing” Marcus said matter-of-factly as he turned to Aemilius quickly.

  “Do you agree with my suggestions Aemillius?” he asked.

  Aemilius’ head nodded slowly as he looked up and a light started to shine behind his eyes. “Yes, sir” he said, his voice suddenly sounding much bolder than it had previously. “I agree. Go” he said to the Optio, who saluted smartly, a broad grin spreading across his face as he, too, glanced with a flare of anger, at the two officers Marcus had singled out.

  “Time to move” he said quickly as he yanked at his reins and mounted his horse before he turned towards the rear. As he passed Aemilius he gripped the man’s arm. “Who are those two?” he whispered.

  Aemilius glanced back at the two men. “Fratinus and Bastudo” he said with a measure of frustration that Marcus knew all too well. It was easy for the junior officers to sow discord against their commander, challenging every situation and pouring scorn on their decisions. Marcus had seen it many, many, times, and his guess was that these two men had caused animosity to occur in the ranks.

  “Then let’s get ahead of them and talk” he said as the two men, on foot, came jogging along behind them, their breathing already ragged as their armour flashed in the bright sunlight. With the two men fifty yards behind them they set their horses into a gentle trot and kept to the side of the road to avoid the marching men, still interspersed with carts full of shields and weapons as the orders hadn’t yet reached them.

  “Tell me what’s been happening” Marcus asked. Aemilius told a tale of poor decisions, men who refused to march and who failed to take orders. It was a familiar tale, but one which had led to a loss of order in the ranks and caused the commander to allow the men to march at their own pace, their shields and heavier weapons on the carts which allowed them to march at an easy pace despite the danger and losses they faced from the rear, the cohorts of the two officers behind them getting the easiest part of the journey. Marcus’ anger was burnin
g as he listened, but he did not respond.

  “And these two men are behind it?” Marcus asked as he glanced back at the sweating men who jogged along behind them, their faces masked in grime and dust.

  “They have made strong arguments that the men quickly agreed to once I lost the first spear to a defensive move they suggested” Aemilius said, his inexperience showing through his words as his eyes cast down to his horse’s neck. Marcus looked at his commander for a moment before he decided what to say.

  “Here’s what we will do” Marcus said as Aemilius looked up at him, expecting to receive a rebuke to his authority that must surely come from such failings. “You will order these two men to take command of the rear and hold the line as we retreat.” Aemilius looked up, still waiting for the rebuke. “I suggest you split them up, give them command of three hundred men each. They can overlap each other every fifty yards and keep fresh men at the rear. The centurions won’t be happy, but you should tell them the orders at the same time as Fratinus and Bastudo, the centurions will know what to do” Marcus grinned. Aemilius’ eyes widened. “We will stay just ahead of the last group of men to keep an eye on things, but also to give the last men a show of strength. An army needs its commander to be strong Aemilius. And one last thing, do you know the three thugs that they had with them?” Aemilius nodded. “Good, then you will find them as soon as we reach the main army and you will find suitable punishments for them” he added sharply.

  Aemilius felt his embarrassment rise into a flush on his neck and cheeks as his knuckles whitened on the reins. He took a shallow breath and tightened his lips. But Marcus simply smiled and looked over his shoulder at the men as they continued to jog along a little further behind. After a moment they brought their horses to a walk as the last line of men came into view, a small party of horsemen a hundred yards beyond that, with an Etruscan leader waving groups of slingers to the left and right. “Time to make that speech, my friend” Marcus said. Aemilius turned his head almost as quickly as the smile had started to spread across his face and called for the centurions to come to his side immediately. With an energy which Marcus could only applaud, Aemilius shrugged off the complaints of the two officers Fratinus and Bastudo, who had clearly been discussing their actions as they jogged along behind their commanders. Marcus was furious at the words of the men, his glowering not hidden from the centurions who looked to Aemilius and then Marcus as they started to understand why the two officers were with them. One centurion, a hulk of a man with a few teeth left in his clean-shaven face grinned and stared at the officers with a measure of hatred that Marcus had not seen for many years. Clearly there was some private issue there, but Marcus smiled inwardly as the centurion took up the salute and call to move towards the rear with evident gusto. Fratinus tried to argue that his place was with his own men and they needed his leadership as they were his clansmen, but Marcus informed him that his role was where his commander required him to be unless he wished to resign his commission and become a common soldier, in which case he would be joining the defences as a legionary with immediate effect.