Vae Victis

by Francis Mulhern

  After a half hour Sulpicius had heard all he needed to know and began to change the subject. “You three men are heroes of Rome” he said with a warm smile as he watched them carefully. “With the help of certain friends, I have been ascertaining how we can all profit from this Gallic issue.” He took a moment to place his cup on the table and stood, his pause capturing everyone’s attention as he had meant it to.

  “We will, of course, refuse to allow you to be sent back with the Gauls” he continued. “But that does leave us with some difficulties in law that we must discuss. Legally they are right that you should be put over to them as an ambassador who broke the trust of Nations. However” he motioned to Quintus whose frown showed a sudden fear “we have a document which will arrive here tonight” he smiled as the Fabius brothers all looked quizzically to him. “The document is a signed declaration from King Porsenna which shows that you were released from your role as ambassador the moment the discussions relating to the Gauls’ claim to their land were finished. The document also appoints you as military advisor and leader of the cities defences and so exonerates the Gauls claims against you” he said with a broad smile as he caught the sudden relief in Quintus’ face.

  Quintus got to his feet, a little shaky as the wine was having an effect. The look of relief on his face was palpable and the gratitude in his tone matched the all-encompassing smile that split his face. “Sulpicius, how?” he stared open mouthed at Sulpicius and then to his brothers. “I... I cannot thank you enough” he said with genuine delight as Caeso and Numerius slapped him on the back and pronounced genuine friendship for Sulpicius. For his part Sulpicius smiled and accepted their thanks with humility. He also congratulated himself on his visit to Javenoli, for it was he, the sick old Senator, who had come up with the idea and provided forged documents via one of his associates.

  “The question now is, of course, what will the Gauls do when we refuse their request to have you released to them?” he asked.

  ************

  Narcius dropped the sword and nodded, sweat dripping from his nose as he took long deep breaths and moved his head slowly from side to side, feeling the tension that had built up in his muscles. He shook his sword arm to let the cool breeze filter through his fingers and reduce the ache that clutching his sword for ten minutes had given him. He also rubbed his shoulder, which had been troubling him since taking a deep cut at Veii.

  “You are as strong as an ox” he said as he sat heavily at a wooden bench carved into a felled tree trunk and poured cool water, scented with lemons, into a wooden bowl, slurping the mixture as he looked across at his long-time friend and benefactor. “I think this country life suits you” he said, instantly wincing as he knew that this was probably the last thing he should say.

  Marcus glowered at him momentarily but shook it off as quickly as he could. There was no point being petulant. He took a long deep breath and pointed his sword at Narcius. “You, Centurion, are getting fat and lazy” he stated with a grin.

  Narcius rocked his head backwards in a snort of laughter. “It’s no wonder, sir” he replied. “Since defeating Veii every tribe in Latium has come to offer peace terms with us. And we’ve accepted. So, we have nothing to do except spend our money and farm our lands” he shrugged as he continued to drink.

  “Another run around the village with these logs will shift that belly fat” Marcus grinned as he hurled a thick log over towards Narcius who was already shaking his head.

  “I’m done, Marcus. Tomorrow, please” he said as he drained the bowl again. A child’s laughter brought both men’s attention to three children racing across the grass towards them. The noise of happy voices shouting who would be first to reach their father causing both men to smile.

  “Competitive spirits” Marcus said as he placed a hand on Narcius’ shoulder.

  “Well they are young and keen” came the reply. “Marcus will be five soon and will start his tutoring” he added with a smile. “I’ve taken on that Greek who taught your nephew Spurius. He’s tough, but a man needs that these days” he nodded at his own words and Marcus grinned back at him.

  “Soft belly, affection for your children” he shook his head with a knowing smile. “Tomorrow we will do two laps of the village, you, my friend, need toughening up” he smirked as Narcius’ children leapt up into his arms and Marcus was gripped by the smallest, a dark haired, doe eyed girl called Amilia named after her mother, Narcius’ wife.

  “Father” said the oldest child. “A man has arrived from Rome to speak to you. He’s at the house” said the boy as he jumped down and nodded solemnly to Marcus. “Sir” he said as Marcus laughed at his formal tones.

  “You don’t need to bow to me every time you see me, Marcus” he said as he ruffled the boy’s dark locks.

  “Sir tell me of the siege of Veii again as we walk back” little Marcus said with a wide grin. “Was it dark in the tunnels? Father says that there were evil spirits in the dark who tried to steal your men away…”

  “I said no such thing” laughed Narcius as he leant forward to grab the boy, who screamed and leapt away from his father’s grip and raced back towards the house with a mighty scream. The other children, kicked into action by the movement, also jumped up and ran screaming behind him.

  Marcus and Narcius laughed as they picked up their weapons and discarded clothes and sauntered along behind the screaming children.

  In the house the messenger jumped to his feet, his eyes catching Marcus’ before he switched his gaze to Narcius. Marcus frowned, the same response, people saw him and looked away, the shame of his exile biting into him. He clenched his jaw and looked to Narcius, who had registered the rider’s nervous glance to the former Dictator.

  “Speak” Narcius said in an exasperated tone.

  The rider saluted, his boyish features showed he must be no more than seventeen, just into his manly toga and a new recruit to the Legions. “Message from command, sir” snapped the boy and held out an officially sealed scroll.

  “At ease” Narcius replied, taking the scroll and sitting. He perused the words and handed it across to Marcus, who quickly scanned the document.

  “Well you better head back, Sulpicius needs you” Marcus grinned. Narcius nodded slowly and took the scroll again, reading the words more slowly.

  “Go, and report I will return to Rome as requested” he said to the messenger.

  “Go to the kitchen, Maximus” Marcus said, noting the grin on the face of the boy as he was recognised by the famous Camillus. “Tell the cook to prepare you some food to take with you and say hello to your father for me” he added as the boy thanked him and saluted to both men before disappearing with an old slave who had been standing quietly in the corner.

  “How do you remember all these names?” Narcius asked.

  Marcus grinned. “A fit body breeds a fit mind” he said as he poked Narcius in the belly and sat down across from him. “So, Quintus Fabius will be back in Rome by now” he half asked, half stated as he looked into the glum face of his old First Spear.

  “Fool” Narcius said as he shook his head. “How could he be so stupid?”

  Marcus nodded in agreement before replying. “It seems there is no choice but to return him to these Gauls” he said with raised eyebrows.

  Narcius was silent.

  “Isn’t there?” Marcus asked.

  Narcius looked at his old commander and frowned, a deep breath coming from him at which Marcus cocked his head to one side. “Is there something you haven’t told me?” he asked, his interest suddenly raised.

  “Not really” came the slow reply. “I’ve heard that Sulpicius and Cossus and a few others are proclaiming the Fabius brothers as heroes for saving Clusium from defeat.” He shrugged. “Pointless really, and despite his problems Quintus is a useful soldier” he finished meekly.

  “No” Marcus said with a deep sigh. “He’s a fool who needs a short leash. Too long and he will think he is cleverer than he is. And in doing that he will get
a lot of people killed.” He shrugged as he looked into the eyes of Narcius. “Maybe this is the course that the gods have planned for him” he added as he stood and called for the slave to collect the swords.

  “Rome is less of a place without you there Marcus” Narcius said. “You know your friends are very happy to pay the fine…”

  “No” Marcus stated flatly and firmly.

  Narcius looked at his friend and nodded, seeing the old bitterness in his eyes. As the trial of Marcus had proceeded and his second son had died in infancy, all of his old friends had worked furiously to get him to stand against the politician Apuleius and his conniving accusations. Marcus had refused all help, his steadfast belief in the Goddesses Juno and Mater Matuta having a bigger plan for his life stopping any support which was offered. His self-chosen exile had been followed by banishment and a fine of fifteen thousand ases, an enormous amount of money, which Rome could only claim if he ever returned to the city.

  Narcius stood and nodded solemnly as he gripped Marcus’ hand. “I will change and leave within the hour. Amilia and the children will leave as soon as they are ready” he said.

  “They can stay as long as they wish to Narcius, Livia is happy with them around. You know how she is” he added quietly. Narcius nodded his response and set off towards the bedrooms at the front of the house.

  Marcus sat and looked to the pendant around his neck, the eagle. He smiled as warm memories flooded into his mind before dark thoughts flooded into his thoughts and crowded them out. His demeanour took on a dark expression and he set his jaw firmly as he stared out into the garden, the sunshine bright and sky blue. Why? He asked in his mind. Why did you forsake me? Is the time to return now?

  Chapter 4

  The roads were solid stone, the houses built one on top of the other and the temples were higher than the trees. The Gauls stared open-mouthed at the city of Rome as they rode across the Pons Sublicius into the city. One Gaul called and pointed to a stone man standing on a stone box and staring at the sky.

  “He has been turned to stone by a gorgon” he said, his voice showing that he truly believed this to be the case.

  Belinus huffed at him and ran his fingers through his lime-watered hair as he looked at the faces of the Roman people, their eyes showing no fear and their expressions puzzled and belittling. He was nudged by Baltor, his eyes wide in shock as he pointed to a picture painted on a wall and the three half naked women waving at them and calling something in the Latin tongue that they didn’t understand. Baltor grinned and shouted back as one of the women turned, bent over and pulled her skirts up to flash her backside at the men as they rode past.

  “Stop it Baltor” growled Belinus. “We are here on serious business. Count the roads and then assess the layout. You know what we are here for. If they don’t give us the bastard Fabius, we need to know every route through the city. Aengus will find out more and will meet us later, but we need to know as much about these Romans as we can” he said with a growl.

  Aengus, his green cloak covering his shoulders and hood over his head, turned his half-shadowed face to Belinus and the Gauls as they were escorted past the building against which he was leaning. Two women were talking to his right, but he didn’t understand their words, though the laughter suggested that they saw no reason to fear the Gauls. He pulled his hood slowly from his head as the Gauls moved along to his left, happy that they had not seen him, and patted the curved dagger he wore in his belt before sauntering slowly along the road behind the parade. His best guess was that the parade would lead to the centre of power for the city, so he had decided to follow it. As he wandered along, following the growing crowd of on-lookers, he stared at the buildings, amazed how such towers of stone didn’t simply fall to the earth in great heaps.

  The Gallic delegation passed the Vestal Temple, some of the white robed girls standing at the doors and watching the hairy, bare-chested brutes from Gaul ride by. Fingers pointed, and tongues wagged as the Gauls stared wildly at the different buildings, the columns of the Temple of Castor and Pollux and the long row of shops on their right as they entered the wide Forum. Belinus looked at the steep steps away to his right and another tall temple at the end of the Forum. He was amazed that these people could live in such a place and shook his head at the vast numbers of people who crowded ahead of them.

  They turned to the right-hand edge of the Forum, following the military escort that had led them from several miles outside the city and they turned past a low building which appeared to have senior men standing around the base of many columns. These men were dressed in the same clothes as the Roman Fabius had been at Clusium, so he guessed these must the chiefs of Rome. As they approached the gathering of white clad men a gap appeared in the escort and several soldiers stepped forwards and spoke to the leader of the escort before motioning for the Gauls to dismount. Having left their horses they followed the soldiers past what looked like a large meeting space on their right and into a low roofed building. Inside was a circular meeting hall with tiered seats around which were seated sixty or more faces, each one with the haughty, arrogant stare that he had seen in the face of Quintus Fabius at their first meeting in Clusium. He bridled at the arrogance and stood tall, nudging his men to do the same. He accepted a silver cup from a slave, the brown tunic and downcast eyes clearing marking him as such.

  The soldier at the front of the escort bashed the foot of his long iron-tipped spear onto the hard-paved floor and called “A delegation from Gallica, Senators. Leading the Ambassadors is Chieftain Belinus of the Senones Tribe” his words were in perfect Greek and Belinus frowned. He knew some of the language, but he was not as good at speaking the language as he was at listening. The soldier stepped back and to the side as a white robed Roman stepped forward, his bald head, hooked nose and beady eyes making him look like a vulture dressed as a man. The man stood on a small wooden plinth in the centre of the room and turned to face the Gauls. After a moment’s silence in which he seemed momentarily confused by the men standing in front of him he held out a hand and spoke.

  “Welcome men of Gallica. The Senate of Rome will hear your words” said the Senator quickly with a mock smile, his eyes wandering slowly across the delegates. Belinus frowned at the man as he seemed to motion him forwards as he stepped back away from the plinth, stepping slowly backwards so as not to turn his back on him.

  “You speak from there” whispered the lead soldier as a muttering grew around the room and Belinus looked angrily at the faces around him. As he stepped forwards to the plinth all of his men followed him, crowding around the small rectangular fixture as they stared at the men in the room. The action brought a hint of polite laughter, which ceased at a cough from the bald vulture who had called him to speak.

  “I am Belinus, Chief of the Senones” he stated loudly, slapping his chest as he spoke and instantly staring around the room, startled at the sound of his voice which bounced around the tall meeting room more loudly than he had expected.

  “No need to shout” whispered the soldier who was standing just to his left and staring away into the corner of the room with an expression of mirth on his face.

  Belinus growled and turned his angry face to the Senators of Rome. “You know why we are here.” he said in a low rumble, the acoustics causing his voice to grow into a long growl as it travelled around the meeting hall. “We, the Senones, demand the man Quintus Fabius be given over to us as is the custom of nations for men who break the oath of the ambassador. In this role he murdered our chieftain Gattric of the Ambarri, the great riders” he said as he held his head high and stared into the eyes of the old Senator. “By murdering our great leader, he has violated his oath and must suffer whatever fate our druids tell us the gods have for him. His life for that of the man he killed under oath. This is as it should be in the law of nations and the eyes of all gods.” He crossed his arms and nodded his head as the rest of the Gauls nodded furiously and affirmed his claim in a chorus of low, deep, voices.

 
A silence fell into the room as he finished. Every head moved slowly to the bald-headed man who now stood and looked at the Gauls as if they were in his way and he wished to move past them.

  “This way, away from the rostrum” the soldier whispered as he cocked his head to one side and slowly motioned the confused Gauls away from the wooden plinth on which they were all crowded. Belinus huffed loudly as he left his position, his eyes narrow and showing his frustration.

  The old Roman stepped forwards and placed a fold of his toga across his arm as his shoulders dropped and he let out a deep, long, breath of air. “Belinus of the Senones and esteemed ambassadors” he said as he bowed to the men. “We hear your words and their truth rings out to us as honest men” he said as Belinus saw a glimmer of hope that the Romans would, indeed, release the man Fabius to him. He half smiled but remained wary as he watched the speaker. “We are law abiding citizens and we agree with you that any man caught acting against the law of nations and breaking his oath as ambassador should be given over to those who castigate him” he added with a calmness that unnerved the Gaul.

  Belinus didn’t understand all the words, but he did know that this seemed to be going well. Baltor slapped him on the shoulder and grinned, obviously understanding the words and their meaning as well. Belinus watched as the man speaking turned his gaze to the room. He seemed to be speaking to the assembled Senators rather than to the Gallic delegation and Belinus felt a sudden lurch in his stomach as he sensed the mood in the room change.

  The Roman turned his cold gaze directly on him. “Would you, ambassadors of the Senones, agree that if an ambassador is released from his role once peace negotiations have failed, he could legally take another role if such a role was offered to him immediately and within the eyes of the law?” he asked as every face in the room turned to Belinus. His mind raced at the words. What could they mean? What trickery was this? He turned to the men behind him and they spoke quickly in their own language before turning to the Roman.