‘In respect of the infantry, the six legions will all commit side by side, advancing in three lines as per our previous engagements. The first two lines will carry out the attack, with the third in reserve to support any weak area. I will leave it to individual command units of the legions, though I would recommend that the legate moves with the first and second lines, while his lieutenant remains behind the second line, with the third. Again, that is your decision. Officers who are stationed at the rear will be able to identify weak spots and draw support from the third line.’
‘The non-mounted auxilia will be split into six groups, each with one of my staff to command and each assigned to a legion. They will move with the legions, though the exact nature of their placement I will leave to the commanders of the units involved. The only men left behind here will be the actuarii, the quartermasters, the medical units and a small guard to protect them and the pay chests.’
Nods and murmurs of approval.
‘At first light, the troops will come to order within the defences and will then cross into the field, falling into position as fast as this can be achieved. As soon as the last unit is in place, we will move on the German camp at a steady field march. I hope to draw them out rather than fight them across their defences, but if they are still reluctant I will press them. I intend for this to end tomorrow. If Fortuna is with us, they will be surprised at the size of the force on this side and will be unprepared. Does anyone have anything to add, ask or suggest?’
The room stood silent for a moment before Ingenuus raised his hand.
‘Caesar, I would like to formally request assignment to the right wing.’
The General nodded, entirely prepared for this,
‘I understand. Granted. Do I presume the same request goes for you, prefect Varus?’
Varus shook his head.
‘My unit and the others that have seen action under my command work best on the left wing. It would be foolhardy to ignore the benefits of their experience for the sake of a grudge.’
Crassus looked up sharply and then nodded.
‘He’s right general. I do not have a great deal of experience at cavalry command and having an officer who knows the strategy of a left wing offensive would be invaluable.’
Caesar smiled.
‘Then I hope you’re both very successful.’
Balbus coughed and gestured to the general.
‘What about the artillery? Are we leaving them on the wall here or are we going to try and take them with us?’
The general raised his hands in a gesture of defeat.
‘I don’t see how we can realistically take them. We’ll be on the offensive and moving fast. I think we have to discount artillery support this time.’
Balbus nodded.
‘If that’s all then, I suggest you retire to your units and get as much sleep as possible before dawn. It’s going to be a busy day, gentlemen.’
The officers bowed as they left the tent, dispersing and heading back to their own men. Varus jogged and caught up with Balbus, Crispus and Fronto.
‘Pardon me for interrupting sirs, but I’m going back to the pyre. It’s still a long way off burning out and I’d like a chance to sit and drink a few toasts to him. Would any of you care to join me? I’ll understand if not; there’s not a lot of time left for sleep.’
Fronto smiled at the cavalry prefect.
‘I’ll happily join you, Varus, so long as you can get the wine. I ran my stock dry earlier.’
Balbus and Crispus glanced at each other. The younger of the two yawned and then smiled.
‘Oh who cares? If I’m this exhausted now, what difference can an extra hour make? Count me in, and I do have almost a full chest of good wine. I’ll send someone for it.’
The four of them made their way slowly to the now bare artillery platform upon which the embers of the pyre were burning down low, still warm and orange. Soon the detail would gather up the ashes and the bone fragments and put them in a ready-prepared funerary urn for transport back to Longinus’ family.
Crispus looked over at Varus as they sat.
‘You held the commander in very high esteem, did you not?’
The prefect nodded.
‘He was the man who assigned me as prefect of the Ninth’s cavalry while we were still in Spain. He’s been my commander ever since I joined the Ninth, and he always looked after the cavalry something special. He taught me everything I know about horse tactics.’
Fronto smiled.
‘And I gather that’s quite extensive knowledge; I hear only good things. You’ll command the cavalry yet. Caesar would have passed it to you purely on Longinus’ recommendation if it weren’t for the all-glorious, sun-shines-out-of-my-arse Crassus and his father.’
Varus laughed, as did the others. Balbus was first to straighten his expression.
‘You do realise, I presume, that Crassus is going to do something horribly wrong or stupid tomorrow. He doesn’t know the first thing about a cavalry battle and he has absolutely no respect for anyone below Senatorial level. I’d have preferred it if you’d taken Caesar’s offer and stayed on the right wing. Caesar is a good horseman and a good tactician.’
Varus shook his head.
‘I need to be near Crassus. If anything’s going to go wrong, the cavalry are going to need someone they know and trust to put it right. I have to be there to make sure he doesn’t kill everyone in a mad rush for glory.’
Fronto gestured to Crispus and pointed at Varus.
‘That’s what makes a good commander. The men should always come first.’
Balbus shook his head sadly as he reached out for the jug of wine.
‘I don’t know, Marcus. I keep feeling it’s getting close to my time. Longinus was not far off half my age and look at him. I can’t afford to die out here in the field when my wife and daughters are back in Massilia waiting for me. I might see out this season and then give it up; become a gentleman of leisure. I own an extensive estate near Massilia, not to mention property in Rome and Campania.’
Fronto smiled.
‘I hate the very idea of carrying out this campaign without you around, but I’m forced to agree. You’re a good friend and the only one of us who really has something that counts to go back to. I’d hate to have to visit Corvinia the way I’ll probably do for Longinus’ family. Do you realise I don’t even know whether he was married?’
Balbus nodded.
‘He was. Didn’t see her very often, but I gather it was a match of choice rather than convenience. He told me she was in Spain with his father, supervising the building of a villa. He…’
Balbus trailed off as Crispus leapt to his feet.
‘Look, out there…’
The others followed his pointing and saw the figures, scattered and few, but darkened and definitely German, running across the field back to the camp.
‘Scouts. They’ll have seen everything.’
‘There goes the element of surprise!’
Crispus frowned.
‘Can we load one of the ballistae and get them before they escape?’
Balbus shook his head.
‘No way we’ve got time. We can’t catch them now. We’ll just have to go ahead anyway. I’d best go let Caesar know though.’
* * * * *
Fronto glanced over his shoulder.
The field was full of men and metal. Six legions, even depleted as they were, numbered over twenty thousand and, with the auxilia among them, they more than doubled that. Thousands of cavalry sat on the wings neighing and prancing expectantly. Archers and slingers filled the rear of the force. Each legion had its own commanders present in all their glory. In all, the formation as a display of military might was a great deal more impressive that the carefully organised hilltop formation at Bibracte.
On the right flank, Caesar sat astride his white charger, the red cloak picking him out as an obvious target. Whatever Fronto might have to say about the general from time to time, the man
was certainly not short of courage. A well-placed arrow could soon cut short his career in Gaul once they started moving forward. Beside Caesar sat Ingenuus, proud on his dappled grey, red cloak flapping in the breeze. Divitiacus, the most senior of the Aedui present, sat in his traditional armour on the other side of the general.
On the far left, Crassus sat on his brown and white, looking pompous to Fronto’s eyes. In the centre Priscus was the front man of the Tenth, for Fronto and Varus were here, two hundred paces ahead of even the foremost of the army. Varus sat astride his white horse, some Gallic breed that Fronto did not recognise, while Fronto rode Bucephalus. He had to hand it to Longinus, this was a lovely horse. Comfortable and steady, but fearless and strong. There were a network of small scars on the horse’s shoulders and flanks; signs of the situations in which the commander and the horse had both been in trouble and both come out to tell the tale. The scar on the horse’s shoulder from the recent cavalry engagement was still fresh and livid. Fronto made a mental note to have someone look at it later.
The sun was already fairly high. Once word had reached Caesar that the massing of his troops was no longer a secret from Ariovistus, he had set back the assembly time to give the troops and officers a full night of rest. Consequently, when the legions had begun to move into position, the Germans were also already on the move.
Much as the German King obviously did not want this battle, he had been left with little choice. Knowing that the entire Roman force was in position, well supplied, and intending to march upon him, his only option had been to prepare for battle.
Fronto glanced along the German lines, not very far away at all. He was grateful that Ariovistus had chosen to make an open fight of it. The man could easily have stayed within the camp and made Caesar besiege it. Fronto knew they could guarantee a greater loss of life if that were the case.
‘They’re split up into different groups. Not tribes, but thingies, like the Helvetii did. What d’you call them?’
Varus smiled. Fronto made him chuckle even when blackest vengeance was gripping him from the inside.
‘Cantons.
‘Bless you!’
Varus grinned as the iron grip on his heart faltered again. Fronto was a rare breed among senior commanders. He and Balbus were very similar in many ways, and the effect that the two of them had on the other senior officers was noticeable. Varus could only imagine what the atmosphere among the men would be like now if Crispus, Galba and Rufus had come under the influence of Crassus from early on. Men who improved the morale of the army did it credit and Varus was determined one day to be one of those men.
‘I can see seven cantons. That means the Suevi must have joined up with them on their march.’
Fronto sighed.
‘Doesn’t surprise me. If they moved as fast as the rest of the Germans did, they probably reached them before even we re-joined the army. Can you see what they’ve done at the back and the sides?’
Varus squinted into the haze.
‘Are they fortifying around behind them?’
Fronto shook his head.
‘They’re stopping their own men from running. That’s a good sign for us. Probably a lot of them are unhappy about being made to fight against the whim of their Gods. Ariovistus is making sure the only way they can get out is through us.’
Varus shaded his eyes.
‘I think you’ll find there’s something else going on. They appear to be loading all those wagons around the back with women and children!’
Fronto stared.
‘Now that’s interesting. I wonder whether they’re meant to encourage them to fight or to prevent them escaping. No one’s going to flee the field if it means cutting through your womenfolk. Interesting. I think we should be in a good position today. Our men are riled and ready for a fight. If theirs are suffering that badly with morale problems, we should be alright.’
He leaned back in the saddle.
‘We should probably get back and tell Caesar now.’
Varus waved him down.
‘In a moment. Look at their cavalry, heavy on either side. D’you see?’
‘I see cavalry. Why?’
‘There’s a weakness on the right. Look at them. They’ve concentrated around two thirds of them on the left. On the right they don’t have many foot supporting them. They could be broken easily. The other side could be a problem. I need to speak to Crassus. He’s going to have to pull in extra support on our left. Perhaps from Caesar’s cavalry, perhaps from the legions.’
Fronto shrugged.
‘Either you really do know your stuff or your eyes are better than mine. Looks the same to me. Still, I’ll tell Caesar about the general situation. You tell Crassus about your cavalry, yes?’
As Varus nodded, the two of them turned their mounts and rode back toward the Roman lines.
Moments later, Caesar leaned forward in his saddle.
‘Fronto. What’s the situation?’
The legate grinned.
‘They look a little unwilling. Ariovistus has them surrounded by wagons and women to stop them running. They’re all drawn up in seven cantons and the Suevi are there. The legions should be able to take them so long as the cavalry are alright on the flanks.’
Caesar smiled at him.
‘Oh, I think we’ll be fine, Marcus.’
‘Yes, I think you will. Varus said the cavalry element’s much lighter and weaker on this side, like maybe it’s a feint.’
Caesar frowned.
‘What does he plan to do about it?’
Fronto growled.
‘He doesn’t command the cavalry if you remember, sir? He plans to warn Crassus.’
The general directed a warning glance at Fronto.
‘Very well. We’ll give a count of five hundred before calling the advance. I want Crassus and Varus to have enough time to adjust their attack.’
The two stared across the field to where Crassus and Varus sat astride their horses, facing each other and talking.’
‘Varus, I am in charge of this wing, and I will decide whether we’re not up to the task.’
Varus slapped his hand down hard on the saddle horn.
‘Sir! If you don’t arrange to bolster our wing now, we could find ourselves very deep in the shit when we meet the enemy. You said you wanted me here for my experience, and you’re not listening to me. I know what I’m talking about!’
‘We have the strongest cavalry force that’s been fielded in this entire campaign; possibly in the history of Roman warfare. We have experienced troops fighting in Roman armour and style and vast amounts of barbarian levies fighting in the same style as the Germans. We could beat them if they were ten feet tall and I will not go to one of my opposite numbers and beg for help.’
‘You don’t have to beg for help, sir. Caesar knows all of this and he has the cavalry to spare. The third line of each legion is a reserve force for just such emergencies.’
‘Get back to your ala, prefect.’
‘If you order me there, I’ll go, but you’re going to kill a lot of people if you don’t change the plan.’
‘I said: Get back to your ala!’
With a face like thunder, Varus kicked his heels and turned to ride to his men.
‘Yes, sir!’
Crassus stared off into the mass of Germans half a mile away. They had not the heart or the stomach for a proper fight.
‘Germans! I’d take one Roman over a thousand of them.’
Toward the centre of the line, Priscus looked over his shoulder at the Tenth, behind him. They looked eager; angry even. He turned back and muttered to Sabinus, assigned as lieutenant for the Tenth and standing beside him.
‘We’re not going to have much room to manoeuvre, sir. Half a mile. If we run and so do they, we’ll barely have time to draw swords!’
Sabinus nodded.
‘Caesar wants two full pilum volleys before we meet them. You don’t think we’ll have time?’
Priscus snorted.<
br />
‘Unless something miraculous happens, we’ll not get a chance to let off one volley or, if we do, it’ll have to be so early it’ll be a pointless gesture.’
Sabinus raised an eyebrow.
‘Fronto lauds your abilities as a commander to everyone. I’ve seen my fair share, but mostly from a nearby hill and directing grand plans. You’re the one with the experience, Priscus. Do what you think’s best.’
Priscus nodded and turned to face the Tenth.
‘Disarm your pila. Pass them to the back of the legion and stack them for later. Draw swords.’
He turned to Sabinus.
‘Do you know anything about their tactics, sir?’
The staff officer smiled and shrugged.
‘I would expect more of what we’ve seen before: cavalry with individual infantry support, but what we’ll meet in the middle is a different matter. They have a similar tribal and military style as the Gauls, and they’ve been fighting with and against them for many years. I wouldn’t be at all surprised to see phalanx, shield wall or even squares.’
Priscus nodded.
‘Some kind of shield-based defensive formation, then, eh?’
‘Something like that.’
Priscus turned once more and shouted across the front line, in the centre of which stood the First Cohort.
‘Remember the Helvetii lads?’
There was an affirmative murmur.
‘You remember how they broke our square? How they got in among us?’
Again, an affirmative murmur. The First Cohort would clearly remember that moment, trapped among the Helvetii, trying to maintain their formation while the rest of the Tenth arrived. Next to Priscus, a signifer gripped his slightly dented standard very tight.
‘If the Germans are in a line when we get there, we’re going to do that to them! As soon as I give the word.’
A low approval hummed across the crowd.
Sabinus stamped his foot impatiently.
‘Why aren’t we moving?’
Priscus grinned.
‘Dunno sir, but I’d make the most of it if I were you.’
Titus Balventius growled.
‘I can lead ‘em myself sir and you know it.’
Marius' Mules Anthology Volume 1 Page 45
