Dawn of The Eagle

by Francis Mulhern

  Many of the families in Rome had wealth, controlled great tracts of land or houses that they rented across the city or in the fields. Yet because they were not part of the old ‘Patres’ -the fathers or Patrician families- of Rome they were nothing. The Patricians held sway over every decision in their lives, and despite many laws being introduced to support the plebeians the reality was that the Patrician families made all the important decisions in Rome. The Lex Canuleia, passed the year after Marcus’s birth, did allow plebeians and Patricians to marry for the first time in Rome’s history, but it was still frowned upon by many of the old Patrician families. Marcus looked at his brother and was about to speak when Medullus noisily jumped to attention, causing them both to look at the entrance of the tent where Postumius appeared hurriedly and took his seat next to Lucius at the campaign desk. He looked quickly to both brothers and turned his chair to face Lucius before speaking.

  “A thousand Aequians have been seen heading for the city of Veii via the old goat track around the hills. I will take five hundred horses and three thousand men and chase them in the name of Rome and Mars” he said leaning forward taking a light hold of Lucius’s arm “if it pleases you ‘senior’ Tribune?”

  Lucius looked to the hand on his arm and slowly placed his on top as he looked up at the junior Tribune. “I think that is a wise move Postumius” he said smoothly, his voice betraying no emotion as he patted the hand on his arm softly as if he was speaking to a child. “It could also be valuable if you could carry on and scout the city of Veii to see if it has had many repairs and changes since last year. Take Rufus Scavolius and his company, they can make drawings of the city”.

  Before he had finished speaking Postumius was on his feet beaming with delight and looking to Marcus with a wild stare in his dark brown eyes. Marcus noticed that Postumius had blood on his tunic and was about to look away when he saw that Postumius had noticed him looking at the spatters of red on his clothes. “Ah” he said “your man did well under the lash. I administered the last ten myself as I thought Bassano was going easy on him”, he looked straight into Marcus’s eyes with a grin “he won’t be stealing from anybody else”.

  Lucius watched as his brother gripped the arms of his chair, his knuckles whitening, and stared back at the man who had whipped a Furii soldier. “Camillus, I would like you to take the augury before we ride, with Antonicus of course”. Antonicus was the chief Augur and every soldier would wait until the Augur had spoken to assure them that the gods were with them before setting out from the camp. “The men think you are a good luck charm, it will please them” he said absentmindedly as he turned, saluted to Lucius and thanked him for allowing the chase. “Come” he commanded to Marcus as he strode from the tent.

  “As you command” said Marcus with as little emotion in his voice as he could muster. Without hesitation Postumius slapped Marcus on the shoulder.

  Lucius smiled and inclined his head as Marcus rose from his chair and saluted his brother. There was so much for Marcus to learn he thought as he sipped his wine and took and unfolded the map of the city of Veii from a small chest on the floor next to his chair.

  Chapter 4

  The augury had been good and Marcus had requested to join Postumius in the chase. He wished to see the ancient city of Veii, home to the Aequii tribe and said to be the most impenetrable city outside of Rome itself. At first Lucius had said no, but to his surprise it was Postumius who had intervened on his behalf and gained the agreement of the senior Tribune to his joining the march.

  The land was rocky and dusty and two days of hard marching had seen them swiftly catch the fleeing enemy. The Aequians had split into three groups in an effort to halt the march of the Romans, and Postumius had been adamant that they follow the group that was heading directly to Veii. This, he had said, would be the group with the most wealth and status and would bring the biggest bounty to him and his men, and to this end he had sent three hundred horses out to circle and intercept the small band of soldiers ahead of them whilst also sending one hudred horses each to track the other bands of Aequii, making sure that the enemy were not circling back to trap them.

  Lucius had insisted that Decimus join Marcus as a personal bodyguard and Postumius had agreed instantly, knowing that Decimus was a good combat soldier and respected by the men. Decimus, for his part, wasn’t happy about this. The campaigning season was coming to a close and he wanted to get back to his farm and check that the grain had been harvested and stored for the winter. His foreman should, by now, have taken the excess to sell at the grain merchants near the Forum Boarium in Rome and he was hoping to turn enough profit to expand his farm. With the plunder from this campaign he and his family would feed well this winter and he smiled to himself as Marcus turned and repeated his question.

  “What should be done about Mella?” he asked again looking quizzically at Decimus who was quickly trying to catch up with the conversation.

  “Er” he said blinking his eyes as a great cloud of dust was thrown up from the feet of the soldiers marching at double time ahead of him. “Well, the lads know he didn’t steal anything sir” said Decimus looking downcast and clenching his fists tightly on the reins of the horse he had been given to ride with Marcus. “But the problem is that the taint remains. Whatever happens he was punished for the crime and it will take a lot to get his standing back in with all the legions”. He looked at Marcus and saw a fifteen year old boy, who despite his background and status was dealing with the first thing his family name could not instantly solve.

  “But he is the best swordsman alive” said Marcus “and an honest and trustworthy man” he added, almost pleading with Decimus as he twisted on his horse to look forlornly at him.

  “Ay” replied the Centurion, “But he is also branded a thief and his honour is in doubt. The men will keep him outside their groups now and he will fetch and carry as the lowest legionary, do double shifts in the latrines and be the first man on ditch digging duty and the last off it” he said with rising anger in his voice but an air of despair. It was well known that men in this position often deserted and Marcus’s face showed the worry that he held for his old sword tutor.

  “It ain’t fair, but there is nothing you, nor I, can do about it” Decimus said turning from Marcus and coughing away the dust that surrounded the troop as it continued its relentless pace across the skirts of Mount Algidus. Marcus squinted at the back of Postumius who was riding at the front of the marching column and wondered if there really was nothing he could do for Mella. In his mind he said a small prayer to Fortuna that he be given a chance to help his friend.

  ********

  The sun had passed the mid-point on the third day and Postumius had ridden out early following reports from his scouts that the fleeing enemy had been sighted. Marcus, quickly bored as the men sat munching through their rations and gambling away the booty then had gained on the cmpaign had spent the last hour observing the flight of a flock of crows. As a Camillus he understood some of the observations and was questioning Antonicus on the finer points of Augury and bird movements with the man who had also agreed to join the chase of the Aequians.

  Antonicus was a tall thin man with long arms and large hands which seemed unnaturally big for his frame. His neatly trimmed beard and dark hair gave his deep set eyes a solemn look which shadowed his true feelings when he spoke, something he had mastered along with his art of fortune telling, for which many of the troops paid him handsomely. His clothing was almost Greek in style and Marcus considered if this made him seem more mysterious to the soldiers, a trick that he knew was used in the many temples in Rome. People were always prepared to pay more for a reading from a Greek Augur than a Roman one. For his part Antonicus was happy to explain as much as he could to Marcus as most of the soldiers didn’t care about the movements of the birds or the reading of flashes of lightning, they were only interested in the interpretation of the messages from the gods and whether it brought them luck or not. Antonicus was pointing to a small
crow which seemed to be leading the others in a long circle and he was just stating that the young bird suggested a surprise or deceit when they were interrupted by a group of horses riding quickly towards them. He cast his eyes away from the flock of birds and looked at Marcus with a meaningful stare, “We will talk again, young Camillus” he said with a look of some affection on his wrinkled face.

  The horses covered the ground quickly, picking their way across the rock strewn hill as they followed the low path which skirted the mountain. “So Camillus” Postumius said leaning forwards on his horse, its breath heavy from the exertion of the ride, when the men arrived. He took a small cup of watered wine from the orderly seated on the horse to his left. “You will see me perform a classic Roman movement now, my friend. I can tell you that we have caught the enemy and will close the trap within the next hour” he turned to his officers beaming with delight and waving his cup high in the air. His men cheered and the soldiers around them rose to their feet and raised their spears in the air as they too joined in the call “For Rome”.

  After a half an hour march the army had come to a stop at a small ravine where the Aequians had barricaded themselves into a narrow entranced cave and set small defensive formations at the only way into the ravine. Marcus had arrived with Decimus and the rear of the column just as the first lines of Roman troops had formed to attack the caves defences. Two lines of two hundred men stood to attention awaiting orders from their superiors.

  Postumius was sitting on his mount to the right of the group of men with Bassano and smiled accepting a cup of water which was offered to him by his orderly. “I’ve sent men around to scout the rear and there is no way in or out except this one. None of the enemy has escaped, they are all here” Postumius called to the awaiting army with a wave of his arm. The soldiers looked eager to get on with the fight, their faces stern and set on the entrance to the ravine. They knew that the Aequii numbered some three hundred, but they had over three thousand Roman soldiers standing against them now – the fight would surely be easy to win.

  Marcus looked at the scene around him. Those troops not involved in the attack were sitting on rocks or in groups eating, drinking and he noticed that many had rolled out their packs and were even asleep. They all seemed un-interested in the fate of their fellow soldiers as they lined up to assault the Aequii. Marcus was stood at the mouth to the ravine, with small hillocks cascading in each direction and scrub-brush dotted amidst the rocky outcrops. The ravine itself was a coarse red-brown rock which rose sharply as if some god had hewn a chunk of rock from the side of the mountain in a fit of anger leaving steep, craggy sides against a flat floor. The sides were as high as two men with no vegetation or signs of life on them. The higher areas held small ledges and deep shadowed crags which seemed within the reach of a tall man, and Marcus wondered if anyone had tried to scale these walls to set defences.

  Decimus also seemed perplexed by the surroundings and the lack of discipline in the vanguard of the army and after a moment turned to Postumius speaking formally. “Sir, would you like me to take command of the remaining men and prepare a camp for the evening?”

  Postumius didn’t seem to hear as he watched a small group of men knock aside a series of obstacles in front of the cave. The obstacles were small half woven wicker shields, often used to hide behind but these seemed to be placed randomly at the approach to the cave.

  “Sir?” repeated Decimus.

  Postumius turned to Decimus and smiled a half-hearted smile. “I think the men deserve a rest Centurion. Let them have some peace for a while and we will sort that later when the Aequi are captured or killed” he said in a bored voice.

  “As you command, sir” replied Decimus looking to Marcus and raising one eyebrow.

  “See Marcus how a true commander deals with his enemy.” Postumius had moved next to Marcus and was leaning forward to stroke the ears of his mount as he eagerly awaited the killing to start. Despite several attempts to request the Aequians surrender no noise or sign of inhabitants had come from the cave. Marcus didn’t like it. Something wasn’t right but he couldn’t put his finger on what it was. His mind came back to the flight of the small crow and Antonicus’s words. The scene and the bird flight set Marcus’s nerves on edge and he said so to Decimus, who agreed, looking to the sky to see if the birds were still flying nearby but seeing nothing but the clear blue sky with some heavier clouds away to the north.

  The cave mouth was small and the ravine only forty paces wide and he wondered how as many as three hundred men could get into the cave without disturbing much of the shrubbery and stones around the entrance. He peered more closely at the ground, looking for tell-tale marks he had been taught in his ‘tracking’ lessons whilst in Rome, but he could see nothing. In fact, he thought, he couldn’t even see footprints.

  Postumius was continuing to tell Marcus just how well he had led the chase after the Aequii as Marcus looked at the surroundings. When he finished Marcus asked, in a voice which he hoped showed his youth and inexperience, “Are there enough men Sir?”, quickly adding “I don’t know much about sieges but the small cave entrance would make it easy to defend and, I think” he stumbled as he tried to find words which would not offend Postumius “I think I would want some men covering the boulders to the right and the high ledge there” he said pointing to a small ledge above the cave entrance which seemed wide enough for a man to stand on. Postumius turned to look as Marcus spoke, and for a moment seemed, for the first time, to recognise the features Marcus had pointed out.

  “Not necessary” said the junior Tribune dismissively as he jumped from his horse and walked confidently forwards pulling his elaborate sword from its leather scabbard. “Come Camillus, let’s join the fight” he said without looking back at Marcus and Decimus who stared open mouthed at this lack of basic military planning. Decimus looked to a junior Centurion as he slid from his horse. “Did anyone highlight the dangers of the counter attack?” he whispered to the red-headed man he clearly knew who had stepped forwards to take his horse.

  “Arrogant shit wouldn’t listen sir. You know what he’s like. Sent Bassano off to line the men up without any support and only after Bassano argued for a scout of the area did he send men off to look around the back of the hill” whispered the soldier shaking his head imperceptibly and muttering an obscenity Marcus didn’t quite hear. Decimus nodded and looked to Marcus who was staring at the cave entrance. “I don’t like it” he said under his breath as they neared Postumius.

  “Me neither” replied Marcus.

  “I’ve told Rufus to have fifty men line up near the horses and cover the right boulders, but to do it without looking like they were told to” added Decimus squinting to the right to see the soldiers noisily walking the horses in the direction he had suggested. “And I told him to get the rest of the men ready to support us if there are any problems, but that might be difficult” he added, glancing at the men setting camp fires and taking off their kit.

  Marcus nodded and stepped forwards to stand next to Postumius who was clearly enjoying telling the soldiers how easy this kill would be, but to save any rich looking Aequians so they could gain a decent ransom.

  At the mouth of the cave Bassano had sent three men forwards with long spears to poke at the ground and uncover any traps or sink holes dug by the defenders. So far they had uncovered a large hole with wooden spikes hammered into the bottom of the pit, which they were dismantling noisily. The hole was only two feet deep but would have killed or maimed any man or horse which had stepped into it. Marcus was impressed. The trap had been almost invisible and he said so quietly to Decimus, who agreed and pointed to the thick scrub on the left and right of the entrance shaking his head and looking perplexed, wrinkling his nose as if some strange smell was annoying him. Now that he was closer Marcus saw instantly that the scrub was not natural and was piled up to look like a large bush.

  Just as he was about to speak to Postumius there was a sudden flurry of dust and noise and two men r
aced from the mouth of the cave and threw lit torches at the scrub on both sides of the entrance. Postumius jumped backwards and yelled in a high-pitched scream “get them” waving his sword at the cave, but before anyone could move the brushwood had caught fire and un-naturally thick dark smoke belched out at the Romans quickly covering the front of the cave and blowing into the faces of the men lined up with their long spears and heavy shields. Almost at the same time a group of men ran from the cave and pulled spears and shields from the ground where they had been covered in sand and soil. Marcus saw now that the Aequians had cut the shrub and placed it around the entrance to the cave purposefully and then used the scrub to brush away the marks they had made digging the pits as well as covering the weapons which would not have fitted within the cave. They had also cleverly used the strong circling wind, which came down the ravine in great gusts, as part of their plan to confuse the Romans and attempt to fight or escape. A knot of Aequians then appeared from the cave and started to throw stones at the Romans to cover the men retrieving the weapons.

  Decimus had pulled Marcus to him “we need shields, quickly” he said dashing to his left and yelling to Bassano who had spread the front line out into smaller thinner lines as many of the men knelt coughing under the constant swirl of thick black acrid smoke which began to claw at their throats. But before he could shout an order Bassano fell clutching at an arrow in his thigh as a group of archers were hoisted up onto the narrow ledge above the entrance to the cave by their fellows and were now shooting rapidly into the formation of men facing them, targeting the officers as they had been trained to do. The front row of men fell to their knees and raised their shields, but many had already fallen to the arrows and lay screaming as their blood spilled into the light brown sand. Behind him Marcus could hear the noise of the entire Roman camp suddenly coming to life as Centurions shouted orders at their men.