Vae Victis

by Francis Mulhern

  “Well, well Sulpicius” smiled Lanatus. “That victory you desired could well be being brought to you” he added as his eyes narrowed and he stroked his thin beard before continuing. “It seems we were all wrong about these Gauls, though as I understand it from Fabius they are harmless enough brutes.”

  Sulpicius fumbled in a small bag on his desk before placing several coins in the hand of his slave who dutifully passed them to the, now smiling, messenger. “Leave” he added quickly as he stepped across to the window, looking into the darkening sky across the hills of Rome. Lanatus waited for Sulpicius to speak, his hands clenching and un-clenching as his mind raced. “They have twenty or more thousand soldiers and half again of women and old men” Sulpicius said without turning his gaze from the scene outside the window, almost as if speaking to himself. “They will take eight maybe ten days to reach Rome with all of the baggage, families and equipment they carry. The rider will have taken three days to return here, so we can assume we have a week to prepare, march out to meet them and annihilate them.” At the last words he turned and Lanatus grinned at the look of death in Sulpicius’ eyes. Death for the invaders, and glory for them.

  “Then how do we play this war, friend” Lanatus asked.

  ***********

  “The scouts are back brother” called Belinus as he hefted his long sword and threw it onto the pile of cloth along the side of the large tent in which the Chieftains slept.

  Brennus grunted as he nodded at the words but continued pacing around the central fire pit, the logs belching out a great heat across which several bronze pans were boiling, the steam permeating the tent. Belinus shook the cloak from his shoulders and stood by the doorway through which he had just entered, his eyes searching the darkening ground ahead of the tent for the approaching men. He heard them before he saw them, three men hurrying across from the horse enclosure.

  “Chief” saluted the first man to enter, his cheeks still flushed from the ride. Brennus nodded at his words and the man sat on the floor, crossing his legs and removing his cloak and thick coat as more men entered the tent, each one nodding to Belinus and Brennus as they took their places around the fire. The rider settled down and was handed a small wooden bowl which a young woman had filled with a steaming broth from one of the bronze pans over the edge of the flames. The rider blew on the broth, his eyes continually going around the room as if he was waiting for the signal to deliver his message. After three small sips from the bowl a large man with whitened hair entered the tent and nodded curtly to all the others sat around the fire, before sitting in a gap that had been left by the other leaders of the Gauls three places to Brennus’ right. The rider placed the bowl on the floor and looked up at his Chief.

  “Tell us Motar. How does it go? What news?” he asked.

  The rider nodded swiftly to each of the leaders before speaking. “As requested, we have sent riders to every town on the road to the city of Rome informing them that we only have argument with the Romans and will not attack any of their cities or their outlying farms unless they bar our journey” he started as every eye flicked to Aengus, sat directly to the left of Brennus. Motar gulped as his eyes caught sight of the druid’s bare chest with the red welt of the fire he had bathed in when they declared war on the Romans. His eyes smiled, his beard hiding everything but his teeth as he continued to speak. “So far every city has left their gates open to us and we have bought enough supplies for three days journey from the more grateful towns. Enough to get the army to Rome.” The leaders muttered and nodded as the rider looked to Aengus and flinched as the druid’s cold eyes turned to stare at him. He coughed, quickly, and then continued. “The Romans have amassed an army and are about to set out from their city along what they call the salt road. The road is wide, and they can travel quickly. They have three quarters of our number and much armour and spears” the rider said. “Here are the numbers” he added as he placed a scratched slate on the floor in front of Brennus, who nodded as he looked at them. “I’ve left two men to watch them and report anything significant and one to search the path they may take to find a suitable location for battle if we need it” he added with a wary glance to Aengus, whose eyes continued to stare into his as if he was reading his mind. He gulped nervously as the Chieftain passed the slate to Belinus.

  After a momentary pause Brennus looked to the men around him and spoke, his voice low but hard in the heavy atmosphere of the tent. “The Romans will be a worthy enemy if the stories we hear of their valour are true” he said as the men around the fire mumbled their agreement. “The gods will smile on us when we beat them” he added with a twinkle in his eye as he turned to Aengus and nodded before he returned his gaze to the men around him. “We are the leaders of the Senones and we must decide tonight what actions we must take. We have discussed every scrap of information for three days now, and the time for decisions falls upon us like a hungry fox on a new lamb” he said. “As your chief I suggest we take the warriors on ahead, leave the baggage and women to follow us with a small guard” he narrowed his eyes as one or two of the leaders glanced to each other.

  “You will get your chance to speak Mantinus” he growled as a younger man bared his teeth in a scowl at his name. “If we get ahead of the Romans, we can catch them off-guard. You know what I know of their military tactics, how they fight in a deep square of long spears. Their horse-men jump from their horses and fight on the floor with spears once they ride into the battle” he grinned at the thought of how the heavy iron long-swords of his men would chop them to pieces from their large mounts if they did this. “We also know that they march slowly and in a long line. If we catch them un-prepared we can destroy them utterly” he said as he let his gaze wonder around the faces of the Gallic leaders. “If we march at first light and push on, we can meet these Romans and prepare a battle they will never forget. Tell me your thoughts?” he asked with an unrestrained growl.

  An older man, his long grey beard flecked with streaks of brown, which made it look dirty, stood and looked around the assembled warriors before turning back to Brennus. “We must not underestimate these Romans, sire. They have won many battles in recent years. The council discussion yesterday spent many hours talking about how their leader” he picked up a ciphered slate, “Camillus, has won every battle he has been involved in. He will be a worthy adversary, and we will win, but we must be careful” he finished.

  Mantinus stood, his eyes holding those of Brennus as he waited for permission to speak. “Lord, let me lead the first attack” he stated, his voice loud and his eyes boring into those of Brennus, who looked genuinely surprised by the sudden outburst. Brennus laughed, a deep, snorting boom which eased the tension in the room instantly but brought a scowl of anger to the face of the younger warrior.

  Brennus stood, watching the eyes of Mantinus as he did so. “Cousin” he yelled as he held out his hand. “And there was me thinking you were going to speak the words of an old woman and tell me to turn back, that we couldn’t beat these bronze covered fools who dress their gods in gold and silver in their temples” he sneaked a glance at Aengus.

  Mantinus gripped his hand, his eyes opening wide as he dared to think that he could lead the attack. “Then my tribe can hold the centre and strike the snakes teeth at these Romans in their skirts?” he asked, as the gold torc around his neck moved along with his throat apple, and his eyes searched for treachery in his older cousin.

  “Before I answer I must know if any other opposes the plan to march the warriors forward and meet these Romans on our terms and at a place of our choosing?” he asked as Mantinus whisked his head around the seated men daring anyone to oppose the plan. As silence fell, he beamed, his young eyes glowing in the firelight as he turned back to his chief. Brennus motioned him to sit.

  “Then we will set out at the dawn. Mantinus you will take the forward position, Aengus will join you, he knows my thoughts” he added as all eyes moved to Aengus, whose eyes didn’t move from the fire. “We have two days to reach
a crossing that Aengus has scouted for us, a location which offers an opportunity for us to set out a battle line which will honour the gods. The river snakes with the curve of a woman’s hips and the land is flat like her belly” he added as the men sat forwards to listen. “The ground is firm, and the gods have seen to it that we have favourable sunlight” he added with a nod towards Aengus, who nodded back to him. “The sacrifices say that we will have the wind behind us and the river spirits will tear any Roman that comes to them from this world too” he added as the men began to growl agreement, their eyes flicking from Aengus to Brennus as he spoke. “The druid” this time he used the formal term as he looked at Aengus “has spoken to the spirits of our dead kin” he said as he stood and walked to the rear of the tent where several heads were washed and placed on a series of spears, some old and some, like that of Gattric, new. “We have learned from their wisdom” he said as he bowed reverently to the array of half decomposed heads “and every portent is good” he added as he turned and nodded at the assembled leaders of his army. “We will win” he said with a shrug as he grinned, the light from the fire turning his teeth yellow.

  Every man in the tent stood and roared approval, the only man to remain silent was Aengus who sat quietly as if in a trance. Brennus waved to the men and after a few moments they quietened down and returned to their positions on the floor. Brennus’ long red hair and gold and silver torc glinted in the firelight as he laid out the plans to his leaders, explaining the details and checking if they agreed, as was the way with the Gauls. He added his concerns and also noted the caution which the elder had discussed earlier, but the plan was made and the Gauls were ready. As the men departed Aengus looked up to Brennus and grinned a wicked smile.

  “Cousin we have much to do to prepare for the Romans” he added.

  Aengus shrugged and sipped at the broth as his chief wandered around the fire deep in thought, his face in shadow. The slapping of his hands against his thigh brought Aengus’ attention back to Brennus after two slow, silent, circles of the fire pit. “I still have much to consider, but since you came to me from the land across the cold sea, I have had no reason to distrust anything you have said, Cousin” he smiled as he sighed and looked at Aengus. “Why my family ever travelled such a distance to allow you to learn the ways of the foreign druids I will never know” he added. “But whatever it was I bless the spirits who guided them. Without your god-given sight we would be nowhere, stuck back in the mountains waiting for another cold winter and for the old to die. Here we have glory to win and honour to gain.” He nodded his satisfaction. “Come Aengus, let us go and drink our fill with Mantinus. He and his kin will be singing till the early light and it would be honourable for us to join them.”

  ************

  The horses snorted, more in boredom than anything else. The column of men tramped along the road in jovial spirits, their armour sparkling in the late morning sun. It was the second day of the Roman army’s march to intercept the attacking Gallic army, and so far there had been no sight of any scouts or blocks on the road, which suggested that the Gauls were still two- or three-days march ahead of them. The Roman leaders had assembled their forces and set out across the river Tiber with over twenty-five thousand men, all of them thirsting for the blood of the Gauls as the Senate called for every able man to represent his tribe. Military Tribunes had been sworn in and leaders and Centurions agreed by the usual vote of the masses.

  As the men marched past their mounted officers Sulpicius turned to his right. Several men sat watching the soldiers marching past, a low cloud of dust rising slowly into the breathless air. Quintus Fabius sat hunched over his horses’ neck stretching his lower back, Marcus Manlius, his old eyes watching the younger men stream past below him as the other officers, Cursor, Rufus, Apuleius, Coxo and Tricostus all sat staring mutely at the thin line of marching men.

  The drum of hoof-beats caught his ear as he looked up and saw two horses approaching quickly from the rear. Furius Medullinus again, thought Sulpicius as he tightened his jaw and lowered his eyes for a brief moment. Lucius Furius Medullinus had been a thorn in his side since they had left Rome, arguing that the men marched too slowly, were ill-disciplined and left too many gaps which could be exploited by the Gauls if they laid an ambush for the advancing Romans. Sulpicius put aside his anger and smiled warmly as Lucius arrived and saluted, nodding to each of the Roman officers as he did so.

  “Sir” Lucius said, his voice formal and his demeanour taut. “I must, once again, protest that no auspices have been taken for the day’s journey and that the scouts ride only a few miles ahead of the column” he said, his voice as angry as it had been only an hour earlier. “I have placed the Furius legion in front of the baggage under Centurion Narcius and have also moved the horse to the rear to ensure we are not flanked by any small mounted force which the Gauls may send around our backs” he said firmly.

  Sulpicius smiled, noting the faces of his officers turn to him as another battle of wills started. “Lucius” he said with a slight sigh which he saw irked the five-time Military Tribune. “The Gauls are still two or three days ahead of us. They do not have the military understanding or skill to circle around our backs and attack our forces. They do not, as you keep stating, have the capability to ambush our forces on the road.” He glanced to Tricostus, who was watching him like a hawk. “I thank you for your diligence in settling your men to their task supporting the baggage” he added with a deprecating look to Lucius “and I look forward to your wise counsel when we sight the Gallic invaders in two days’ time from now.” As he finished, he looked to his left as the snake of men rounded the turn in the road and disappeared from view, his mind already rushing ahead to the next stop when he could get a cool drink.

  Lucius sat silently as he heard the words of his commander, his anger obvious in the set of his jaw and tense shoulders. “I request permission to scout ahead with three of my men, sir” Lucius asked as Sulpicius turned to him.

  “Denied.” Came the flat reply. “Please return to your section Lucius and we will discuss matters further in an hour when we stop for refreshments” he added coldly as several officers hid their smiles at the rebuff.

  Lucius gripped his reins with white knuckles as he half saluted and turned his horse to gallop away towards the rear.

  “Was that wise?” asked Tricostus, his eager eyes boring into Sulpicius. “Furius is a good commander and has many years of experience of campaigns against our enemies. His support would be more useful than having him sitting at the rear of the army kicking his heels and grinding his teeth” he added in a calm voice designed to provoke the commander.

  Sulpicius smiled and looked across to Quintus Fabius. “Well Tricostus” he said with a friendly grin “I have seen some measure of war myself and with the skills of the unbeaten Quintus here” he nodded as Quintus smiled back at the complement “I am sure that we have the measure of the Gauls.” At this Marcus Manlius moved forwards and looked at Quintus, his thin beard still showing his youth. Quintus had the decency to look away from the eyes of the old Centurion turned statesman and champion of the plebeians as he caught his glance.

  “Tricostus speaks the truth, like it or not” Manlius said, his voice calm. “Quintus was taught well by the thief Camillus” he added as a few of the men shifted at the mention of the name of the former Dictator. “And as much as I hate the man” he added “his tactics were always exemplary, and his troops were well disciplined.” He looked directly at Sulpicius before speaking next. “Send Furius out into the woods ahead of us. It can do no harm if what you say is true and it will get his whining voice out of our ears” he said with true malice.

  Sulpicius knew of the animosity between Manlius and Camillus and held his tongue for a moment as all eyes turned to him. Manlius was a wise counsel and had agreed to take the position as support officer on the basis of agreeing several Centurionships for leading plebeians. His words made sense but Sulpicius considered what affect his changing his min
d might have on the men. Would they see it as weakness and vindication of the issues Furius-Medullinus had raised time and time again?

  “No Manlius” he replied as Manlius shrugged at the answer. “I may reconsider tomorrow when we are a day’s march closer to these invaders. But I thank you for your wise words” he added with a rise in his tone and flick of his arm. “Time to move on men” he added as he nudged his horse forwards with his knees.

  Manlius dropped to the rear of the officers and watched as Sulpicius moved forwards. The man was a blustering fool, he thought. Despite his anger at Marcus Furius Camillus Manlius had nothing but respect for the older Furius brother. Lucius had been as good a commander as he had ever served under and had acted with honour and integrity at every stage of his career. Manlius dropped back to Apuleius and nodded, the younger man, his first major campaign as an officer, nodded in response.

  “Stay close to Lucius Furius Medullinus if you can” he whispered as the eyes of his plebeian friend widened in questioning surprise. “Furius knows what he is doing in a battle so stay close to him is all I am saying. That one and Fabius will get us all...” he tightened his lips and shook his head before turning away and riding forwards, his unspoken meaning clear for Apuleius to understand.

  ************

  “There” pointed the dirt encrusted finger. Belinus grinned.

  “Half a day” came the words of the beardless young scout who had first seen the cloud of dust of the advancing Romans.

  Belinus nodded to his older brother and was already turning to look back at the land behind them. They were on a short rise which allowed them a view over the treetops and into the long valley along which the Roman army were marching. Their scouts had trailed the Romans for a few hours and were bringing a constant stream of reports back to the Gauls. Brennus considered his view for a moment before he patted the boy on the back. “Go. Find Astarius and tell him to bring the scouts here as quickly as you can” he said as the boy nodded his understanding and ran to his horse, leaping onto its back and thundering away.