by R. W. Peake
Chapter 11- Rebellion of Vercingetorix
The fact that Caesar went to the trouble of actually subjecting Acco to the formality of a trial had an unforeseen consequence because it prompted the chiefs of the various Gallic tribes to discuss this event among themselves. They came to the conclusion that Caesar subjecting Acco to such a punishment could only mean that Caesar was intent on subjugating Gaul to the point where it would be named a Senatorial province of Rome. I cannot say what was in Caesar’s mind, yet speaking from the ranks, it never occurred to us that Caesar held any other goal but making all of Gaul a Roman province. I for one found it puzzling that here, six years into Caesar’s campaigns in Gaul, these Gallic chiefs were just coming to a conclusion that we had assumed as fact for so long. Whatever the case, the discontent and resentment were about to boil over yet again, with the chiefs beginning to plot the overthrow of Caesar and Rome. In their earlier attempts what crippled them was that they still thought of themselves as separate tribes, so that they were either unwilling or unable to put aside old hatred for one tribe or another in order to work together. Then later, once they learned that they would have to cooperate if they were to have any chance of overthrowing us, they were faced with the problem of not having a leader with the vision and charisma needed to unite such a fractious lot. They were saddled with the likes of Ambiorix, who for whatever reason did not excite the other tribes to rally to his cause in sufficient numbers to be troublesome. Indutiomarus had his hands full trying to solidify his power within his own tribe, and replacing his son-in-law alienated as many of his people as it won to his banner. But now, there came the kind of man who was able to unite the tribes, a man who was the first real threat to our control of Gaul. His name was Vercingetorix.
While Vercingetorix was an able enough man in his own right, it did not help that the political situation in Rome was so unstable that word of the upheaval in the city reached the ears of the faraway Gauls. Caesar’s man Clodius, running for Praetor, was murdered by one of his opponents Milo and it was said the streets ran red with blood as the city went mad. Temples were burned, and there was daily rioting in the Forum, inevitably spilling out into the rest of the city. Martial law was declared by Pompey; decent citizens dared not show their face outside, which of course meant that commerce, the lifeblood not just of the city but of the Republic, came to a standstill, causing shortages of staples like bread that ignited fresh rioting. Also, word of the disaster at Carrhae reached us, and even as all of the veterans of the Legion mourned the loss of young Crassus, this event, coupled with what happened to the 14th not once now but twice, ignited a celebration in Gaul. The firebrands and rabble-rousers used these examples as further proof that Rome was not invincible after all. It reached a point that we were not allowed to leave the camp alone, being required to have at least one companion with us at all times, and it was during this period that Vibius and I began to spend more time with Calienus and Gisela. If I had been Calienus I would not have been particularly happy to have us hanging around, yet I sensed a change between him and Gisela. Despite not wanting to pry, I was intensely curious about what was happening, and I also looked forward to these times spent outside of camp because it was only under these circumstances that Vibius and I could be friends. My promotion to Optio had widened the gap between us in terms of our friendship, although Vibius was named Sergeant to replace me, so I looked at the order to not go unaccompanied as a gift from the gods that would allow me to help close what I saw as the growing distance between us. As I was to learn, there was such a rift, except it had nothing to do with our different ranks, but with Caesar, and it was during these off-duty times after a couple cups of wine that I learned just how big a gap was growing between us because of our commander. However, being honest, I will have to say that spending time with Calienus, and by extension Gisela, was at least as important to me, if not more important as trying to repair my friendship with Vibius. I thought I concealed that motive very well, except looking back, I cannot help wonder if I was transparent enough that Vibius was aware of my motives and that this was as big a problem as Caesar was. Perhaps he was remembering how I had felt about Juno, and was upset to see that I was essentially doing the same thing with Calienus and Gisela; I was falling in love with another man’s woman. Sitting there watching the interplay between Calienus and Gisela, as inexperienced as I may have been with women, it was plain to see that things were not right between them. Yet it was several nights, along with several cups of wine before I got up the courage to bring it up. After an especially tedious and trying day, in my exasperation, I decided not to limit myself like I normally did to my standard two cups of watered wine. We were sitting at our accustomed table near the bar, where Gisela came to pick up cups of wine to serve to the other men and their women, some of the latter rented for the evening. Bringing our drinks, Gisela had just slammed down our three cups, shooting Calienus a look that needed no translation.
“By Dis, Calienus,” I remarked in what I hoped was a playful tone, “I can see the frost forming on your eyebrows from the look Gisela gave you.”
For an instant, I thought I overstepped, his head shooting up from staring moodily into his cup, his eyes narrowed as he searched my face. Gisela had always been a touchy subject, as well she should have been, yet when Calienus looked in my eyes I guess I must have disguised my true feelings well enough, because his face softened and he gave a rueful smile. “She’s………..upset with me,” he shrugged, “not that that’s any different than any other day lately.”
I was about to open my mouth, but Vibius beat me to it. He was just as curious as I was about the relationship between Calienus and Gisela, albeit for entirely different reasons. His hope was that he could learn the intricacies of how to manage a relationship with one you loved by watching the mistakes and missteps of others.
“So what did you do this time?” Vibius asked the question as if the cause was a foregone conclusion, and Calienus looked about to protest before sighing then shrugging his shoulders again. Looking at Gisela as she walked to the other side of the bar to serve other customers, he lowered his voice and replied, “It’s not so much what I did do as what I didn’t.”
We waited for more, but nothing was forthcoming, and I was about to open my mouth to urge him to keep speaking when Calienus shot me a warning glance, shaking his head as he nodded over my shoulder. Sneaking a peek I saw that Gisela was grabbing another round of wine, so we remained silent until she walked away. Once he saw her engaged in conversation with one of the other patrons, Calienus continued, watching Gisela furtively to make sure she stayed out of earshot. “I didn’t tell you boys this, but Gisela was pregnant.”
Our initial reaction was to burst out in congratulations before the full meaning of his words cut through the fog of wine building in my brain. “Was? You mean,” I wasn’t sure what the right word was, never having reason to use the word miscarriage before, “she…lost it?”
He nodded, looking more miserable than I had ever seen him, as Vibius and I exchanged a glance, totally unsure what the right thing to say to such news was.
Finally, Vibius spoke hesitantly, “I’m sorry Calienus. That must have been very hard for both of you.” Trying to look on the bright side, he continued cheerfully, “But that doesn’t mean you can’t try again, and that’s half the fun, neh?”
Calienus smiled wanly, but his voice betrayed his sadness as he replied, “That’s just the thing. Gisela is convinced that somehow I’m cursed, and any child borne by her that’s mine is destined to die.”
Vibius and I looked at each other in shock. “Where did she get that nonsense?” I demanded this a bit too loudly, causing Calienus to wince while shooting a nervous glance over at Gisela, who thankfully was still engaged in her conversation. I could see how disturbed Calienus was, because he normally would never have tolerated her talking to another man he did not know for such a long time, but that seemed to be the farthest thing from his mind. “She went to one of her peop
le’s soothsayers, and the bitch told Gisela that any child of mine was destined to die.”
“But why?” Vibius asked. “She had to have some reason for saying that.”
Calienus looked away, and I could not tell if he was embarrassed, or if there was something else bothering him. Keeping his face turned away so that he was not looking at us, he replied, speaking so softly that we almost did not hear him. “She said that the reason our children would die is so they wouldn't have to live without a father. The soothsayer said that I’m going to be dying…..soon.”
We sat there for a moment, stunned. Both of us had heard tales of men who received divinations of one sort or another that foretold their deaths, but none of these men were anyone we knew until this moment. As we sat there absorbing this, there was something that bothered me, and I asked Calienus, “But why is Gisela mad at you? You have no control over what the soothsayer told her, and it’s not your fault you lost the baby.”
Now Calienus looked both embarrassed and pained. “It’s just that……” he stopped, staring down into his wine cup. We sat there for what seemed like several moments before he finally finished his sentence, blurting out, “It’s just that after she lost the baby and she went to the soothsayer, I signed on for another enlistment. That’s why she’s mad at me. She thinks I’m openly defying the gods.”
I probably should have left well enough alone, yet the thought that Gisela was punishing Calienus for re-enlisting bothered me to the point that one night, with Calienus deciding that perhaps it was best that he stay in camp for a few days, I violated the rules and went to see Gisela alone. Making my way to the bar, when I entered by myself Gisela looked at me in surprise then walked up to me, giving me a quick hug like she always did, while I felt a thrill of excitement like I always did.
“Salve Titus Pullus,” she said in her accented camp Latin, waving me to our normal table.
Without asking, she brought me a cup of wine, then remained standing there, staring at me with those green eyes. I could swear that she was looking into my soul and seeing my true feelings. I felt the heat rising to my face, making me thankful when she cut the silence that was growing between us by asking, “And what are you doing here all by yourself? Where is Domitius?”
I was surprised that she did not mention Calienus, although I probably should not have been. Not sure how to approach the subject, I decided to handle it in the same manner I did with all things in my life, head on and swinging away. “Why are you angry at Calienus?” I asked bluntly.
If I had thought to take her by surprise, I was to be disappointed. Her eyes showed nothing but a hint of anger. “Did he send you here for him?” she demanded, putting her hands on her hips, cocking her head to one side as she waited for an answer.
I struggled to keep my focus on the topic and not get lost in my inspection of the freckles sprinkled across her nose. A part of me continued the conversation, as I protested, “No! He knows nothing about me being here.”
Her expression softened, but just a little. “Then why are you here?”
There was no way that I could give her the real reason, so the best I could do was a lame, “Well, because I’m worried about him.”
She laughed, and I saw how impossibly white her teeth were, making me feel positively dingy in comparison. “Calienus? You’re worried about Calienus?”
She shook her head, but all the humor left her face when I responded. “I know about the soothsayer,” I said quietly.
Her face flushed red, except I could not tell whether it was anger or embarrassment or both. “He had no right to tell you such things,” she hissed.
“He’s our friend Gisela,” I shot back. “He had to talk to someone about it.”
“And did he tell you what he did after I told him?”
I nodded. “Yes, he told us. But you’re consulting one of your soothsayers, correct?”
“Yes, but what does that have to do with it?” she demanded, and in truth, I did not know myself. I just said that because I did not know what else to say. However, I had blazed the path in this direction, so I must see it through, I thought to myself, even if it makes her even angrier. “It has to do with the fact that you and your soothsayer have your own gods. They’re not our gods.”
Even as I said it, I suspected that this would make her angrier, and I was right.
“So, you are saying that your gods are more powerful,” she spat.
I shrugged, not saying anything for a moment, seeing that she was in no mood to make this easy on me. “Isn’t it obvious?” I asked, and in truth I thought it was, and still do. “We’ve conquered your people, no matter how much of a struggle you put up. Isn’t that proof that our gods are more powerful than yours?”
The blow caught me completely by surprise, her tiny white fist lashing out with surprising speed to strike me square in the chest, and I say with no shame that she almost knocked the wind out of me. I was stunned, but when she drew her fist back to strike me again, I was not about to let her hit me again, catching her wrist as she lashed out instead. She was surprisingly strong, but she was no match for me and I came to my feet to tower over her. Thinking that the strength of my grip would dissuade her from any more violence, it turned out I was wrong, because she lashed out with her left hand, with an open palm this time as she slapped me across the face, hard. My head rocked back and I felt the fire where her hand had hit me on my right cheek, the first stirring of real anger coming over me, anger and………something else. Drawing her hand back to hit me again, I caught that one as well, so that I now held both her arms, but she was not through yet. Standing there for a moment, the only sound was our breathing as she struggled and thrashed wildly, the barman and the two other patrons in the place shocked into silence. I stood there, immobile and unyielding, watching her fight wildly to escape my grip, her red hair whipping about like liquid flame, her cheeks flushed red and her lips parted as she gasped for breath, so that whatever reservations I was feeling up to that moment vanished, deciding then and there that she would be my woman, one way or another, whether I had to fight Calienus for her, or if her gods turned out to be right after all. The instant that thought crossed my mind it was like being dashed with a bucket of cold water and I came to my senses, shocked at myself. To that point I was standing there passively as she struggled, but now I shook her, hard.
“Stop this nonsense,” I roared in my best command voice, and to her credit, she did stop.
Her hair was in her eyes, but I could see them blazing through at me, her breasts heaving and despite my horror at what I was thinking, I could not help noticing a trickle of sweat running down between them,and I felt the heat coming back. Before it could take hold, I said in what I hoped was a soothing tone, “Gisela, I meant no disrespect to your gods. I was just trying to explain why Calienus re-enlisted. He feels that our gods are strong enough to protect him.”
“Well, more fool him,” she snapped. “Our gods are much more ancient than yours, and they are just as powerful.”
I was smart enough at least not to argue the point anymore. Instead, I took a conciliatory approach. “All right, fair enough. I just wanted to come talk to you because he’s one of my best friends, and I know how much he loves you.”
Her face softened, and her body went limp, so I released my grip on her arms, trying to ignore the angry red marks I had left, yet she seemed not to notice. Her expression saddened, and she replied softly, “Calienus is a good man. I know that. I could have had any man I chose, even the Centurions and Tribunes, but I chose him.”
I was about to open my mouth and ask exactly how that happened, then decided to keep my mouth shut, not wanting to ruin the fragile peace. She looked up at me, and I could see the beginning of tears shining in her eyes. “That is why I do not want to lose him. But he chose his path, even after I told him what it meant. I cannot spend any more time loving someone who I know I will lose. I already lost everyone else I ever cared about. It’s better that I stop caring about Cali
enus now, while he is still alive, then suffer again.”
This was the first time I had ever heard her make any mention of her family’s fate; Calienus once told me that it was a subject that they never discussed. Listening to her, I realized that I could not fault her for feeling this way. She obviously had already suffered great loss, something I do not believe that we Legionaries every really understand, nor particularly care about. It is not because we are that callous, although in many ways we are, but to dwell on such matters make the people we fight and conquer more like us. Once your enemy starts being human, it is not long before you hesitate when facing one of them, and that is when you become food for the carrion birds. Consequently, it is better to harden one’s heart and survive; at least that is what we tell ourselves. Leaving Gisela, I walked back to the camp deep in thought. A seed was planted in my mind, and it would take root and grow. I would make Gisela mine, somehow. I just hoped that it was not going to be over the body of my friend.
While our own little drama was being played out, the larger events around us were picking up momentum. After the trial and execution of Acco, Caesar left us to go to the Province to hold the assizes, and the Gallic chiefs worked quickly to strike while Caesar was away. Two of the chiefs of the Carnutes, Cotuatus and Coconnetodumnus started the revolt by descending on the town of Cenabum, by now an important grain depot for the army, subsequently attracting a fair number of Roman citizens, all of whom were put to the sword. It was still winter, but late in the season, yet despite the snow laying on the ground and the overall difficulty of traveling at such a time, word of the massacre at Cenabum spread like wildfire in a drought. News of the slaughter reached the ears of Vercingetorix before a full day passed, in his hometown of Gergovia, some 150 miles to the south of Cenabum. Vercingetorix was the scion of the Arverni tribe, his father having at one time been considered the most powerful chief in Gaul. Vercingetorix was a young man, about my age I believe, and he immediately began pressing for war. His uncle, a man named Gobannito, along with other tribal elders were not willing to countenance such talk, so Vercingetorix was banished from Gergovia. Undaunted, he began raising an army, first starting with fellow outcasts and bandits of every description. Soon after, his powerful personality and name drew the young men of not just his tribe, but those surrounding Arverni territory. In a matter of weeks his power grew to such proportions that he was unanimously named commander in chief by all the tribes involved, no mean feat.
