Vae Victis

by Francis Mulhern

  Moments later a call came for Brennus, his pulse suddenly surging and his hand grasping his sword swiftly as his eyes fell on the man trotting across to him and his brother.

  “What is it?” Brennus called with a half-drawn sword. “Defenders?”

  “No Lord” said the man, his head shaking as he came to a stop, half turned and pointed away to the right from where he had come. “You need to come and see this, Sire” he said as Brennus creased his brows.

  ************

  The tuff walls shone in the bright sunshine as the sun rose across the land. The pickets stamped their feet as they tried to bring some warmth back to their bodies after a long night standing outside the city. Animals stirred in the distance, the noise of horses just carrying on the wind as the guards gazed lazily along the track.

  “More refugees?” said Denxus, his arms gripping the thick woollen cloak he had worn around his body overnight.

  “Looks like it” came the reply from his fellow guard.

  Denxus grunted and spat on the ground before lifting the cloak and stepping two yards to the left to relieve himself, the steam rising from his urine as he turned his eyes back to the low road. “How many this time?” he said.

  “Looks like four or five” came the reply. “Two horses and a few walking.”

  Denxus returned to the small barricade which straddled the road. “Must have been some of the last to leave” he said with a sigh. “I wonder if the Gauls have sacked the city yet?” he asked morosely.

  “I’ve seen no smoke.”

  “Maybe they decided to go home?”

  “Doubt it. You saw them. Bloodthirsty savages. They’re bound to go to the city to see what they can strip from it. I just hope my family got out alright.”

  Denxus nodded silently. He had no family to worry about, but he knew countless others who did. Since the remains of the army from the Allia had arrived here in the ruins of the city of Veii they had set up camp and scoured the land for food. So far, they had been lucky and had seen no sign of the Gauls. The Centurions and officers had set up a town council and started the discussions about their next moves, but there was a reluctance to do anything other than sit tight and see what the Gauls did next. They had few weapons, though the walls were good and with the gate fixed, to a fashion, the Gauls would find it hard to enter the city. Men were busily tearing through houses looking for iron and bronze to melt into weapons and every local village had been petitioned to join them in their defence. Since that time many stragglers had appeared from Rome, some from the Allia who had been lost in the woods had arrived at the old Etruscan city too.

  “Hail” Denxus called to the weary travellers as they rode up towards the barrier, the grime covered faces of the riders showing a mix of fear and relief as they approached. “What news?” he called loudly as he saw the look of relief at his Latin words.

  “Terrible news” came the short reply. “The Gauls have surrounded the city. We watched them riding around the walls” the man said, tears in his eyes. He fell silent, almost lost for words.

  “Get inside” Denxus said with a placating hand on the man’s thigh. “The watchword is Fortuna Mother of the Earth” he added as the small group set off along the track. “Ask for Caedicius” he called as the man turned his face back to him. “He’s in charge and will help you get settled in” he added with a wave as the refugees turned back towards Veii.

  Inside the walls the city was filled with the stench of men, piles of wood set up against the walls ready to use as firewood and horses tethered in make-shift corrals. Soldiers, sat around the dying embers of small fires, stared up as the newcomers entered the gates, one or two standing and moving slowly across to check if the latest arrivals were of their family or knew of their kin. Within minutes the scene had returned to normal, the abject soldiers slumping back to their seated positions and staring blankly at the walls and sky.

  Gallerus slowly slipped from his horse, rubbing at his legs as he hit the floor and sighed. His family had left Rome two days earlier and headed up the Janiculum Hill following the great flow of people that had left the day earlier, many of whom he now recognised were here in Veii. “Stay here and watch the animals” he said to his teenage son, his dark brown eyes flashing suspiciously around the seated soldiers as his father handed the reins to him. He kissed his wife’s forehead softly before he stepped across the gateway and headed for the grey tent where he had been told to report to Caedicius. He took a long slow breath and tried to move his hair into some sort of order as he sniffed and screwed up his face at the stench of the men around him. He glanced back at his family, who seemed fine, certainly nobody was moving to bother them. He relaxed slightly before approaching the tent, pleased to see that two guards were standing alert outside.

  “Welcome brother” said one of the guards as he stepped across his path. “Newly arrived?” he asked.

  “Yes. Gallerus Maximus of the Aventine. Baker” he said flatly as if this gave him some status but realising that the once accepted role was of little use in this place.

  “Baker” came the guard’s warm reply as he nodded. “Hey Sterrus, look we got a baker” he said with a gap-toothed grin as his fellow guard nodded and smiled. “I reckon the boss’ll have a job for you” he said. “Come on” he flicked his thumb and turned to the entrance to the tent, knocking the wooden pole with his foot three times and calling “Permission to come in, Sir. New arrivals.”

  “Yes, yes, come” came the reedy voiced reply.

  Gallerus blinked as he stepped into the tent, the flaps hiding an enormous inner area in which several of the officers were standing or sitting next to a long table which had had running repairs made to a leg to make it serviceable. Caedicius stepped forwards, his armour still brightly polished and his clothes clean in comparison to the scenes Gallerus had seen outside. The officers stood, one nodding to the baker in recognition, Gallerus nodding in return and smiling, relaxing even more as he knew the man, though he couldn’t remember his name. It had been years since he had actually served the bread he made, which was the slave’s task, so he knew lots of faces but few names.

  Gallerus announced himself in his best voice, still wary that he was standing amongst the remaining patricians of Rome. Caedicius quizzed him for ten minutes regarding the fate of the city and seemed happy with the replies he received. A short silence fell into the tent as he finished speaking before Gallerus gulped and asked, “What will we do now, Sir?”

  Caedicius’ brown eyes turned to the baker, his narrow face and thickly broken nose making the man appear fearsome as he stared coolly into his eyes. “We are working on that” he said at last, his eyes moving to the officer to his right. “But until then I have a job for you” he said more cheerfully. “Here” he pointed at a roughly drawn sketch of the city which was placed on the left edge of the table and beckoned the baker forwards. He tapped a nondescript area of the map “this area has a large bakery with several ovens. We have a small supply of corn and some other foodstuffs and new supplies are coming in every day.” He looked up at Gallerus. “You are now levied to the second cohort as chief baker” he said. “We need enough food for two thousand” he looked up again “maybe three thousand people. See what you can do” he said as Gallerus nodded with a sense of purpose.

  “You asked what we will do next” Caedicius said. “We will survive” he added with a glint in his eye. “We will strengthen our soldiers and we will rebuild this city, so we can defend ourselves. Then we will see what the Gauls do.”

  ***********

  Brennus jogged around the corner and stared up the long street, the wide roadway neatly paved and interspersed with a variety of trees, some precisely trimmed to give shade and others tall and spindly with thin leafless branches.

  At the junction stood a party of fifty Gauls, all now turning to their leader as he stopped and frowned at the scene ahead of him. Along the road he saw what looked like more of the statues he had seen on the walk into the city, but these on
es were sat on small backless chairs and clothed in the finest garments he had seen, some wearing masks on their faces, some with feathers in their hair and others holding ornaments or tools in their hands. Along the road were twenty or thirty, each one sat silently at the entrance to one of the larger houses.

  “What is it?” he asked quietly of the warrior who he had followed, his eyes not moving from the statue like figure closest to them. The man shrugged and turned back to the road which rose slowly up into the distance.

  “We have sent for the druid” said the man. Brennus nodded.

  A tall Gaul, his hair whitened and plaited down his back came across to his leader and bowed slightly before he spoke. “Lord is it the ghosts of the hearth?” he asked as Brennus snatched a look into his fearful eyes before he glanced back at the old man he had now walked towards. He stood ten paces away from the first man, staring at him intently.

  “We will ask the druid” he said as he leant forwards and sniffed the ghost at the doorway. The man was as thin as a skeleton, his bald head covered in a small purple fringed white cap with a small tuft of a feather attached to the top, the dark blue moving with a twitch in the breeze as he stared at it. The man was wearing a thick toga, folded in neat swirls around his shoulders, his shoulders back and his chest out as he stared coldly into the middle distance, as if not seeing the Gauls who stood transfixed in front of him. At his feet was a small candle, still lit and giving off a scent of flowers. Next to the candle was a small oil filled bowl with spots of red dancing on the surface. Blood, Brennus guessed as he saw a small speck of blood on the toga and the tell-tale signs of blood on the man’s right hand, which was holding a short white, ivory, cane. The cane was topped with a small gold orb patterned with leaves. The Oak, Brennus thought, his mind rushing to thoughts of the mighty tree god. Was this a sign? As he stared more intently at the man, the feather on his cap moved violently as a sudden gust of wind moved up the road. Brennus moved his head back quickly, his warriors also moving back at the sudden jerk of Brennus’ head. A fear came to Brennus. What were these strange men doing here? He looked to the warrior, his eyes wide with wonder. “What are they doing? Is it sorcery” he asked, the warrior, as all the others were, simply stood in silence and stared wildly up and down the road at the seated men.

  Brennus poked the man in the arm, stepping back slightly in case the action provoked the man into some sort of movement. Nothing happened. Not a muscle moved. He looked up the road and saw other warriors looking to him, some now bending forwards and poking the seated men as they had seen their leader do. Bearded giants drew back from the ghosts as Brennus stared at them and shrugged, not knowing what sorcery or witchcraft this was. A call from the road announced the arrival of the green cloaked Aengus, his face breaking into a quizzical look as he stepped closer to his cousin.

  “Cousin” Brennus said as more of the warriors moved closer now that their druid had arrived, each eager to see what the druid made of these old Romans. “What do you make of this?” he swiped his arm towards the old man who remained motionless in his seat. “Is it witchcraft?” he asked quietly.

  Aengus smiled knowingly and moved towards the seated Roman, his eyes narrowing as he knelt on one knee and sniffed the scent of the candle before taking the curved blade and touching the tip into the bowl of red-spotted oil. He raised the oil tipped blade to his nose and sniffed it too, the Gauls around him staring at him as he moved. He stood and circled the old man, touching the clothes lightly and with reverence as he nodded and stepped back.

  “What is it?” Brennus asked, his loud voice breaking the silence that had fallen along the road. Aengus held up a finger and padded along to the next man, circling slowly as he stared at the seated man. Then he moved up the hill to the next man and did the same before he sauntered back down the hill and called to one of the warriors.

  “Go into the house and return quickly. Tell me what you see” he asked as one of the men glanced quickly to Brennus before turning to run into the wide-open gate which led to the inner house. Within a few minutes he appeared, his eyes wide as he straightened his back and reported. “An old woman, dead on her bed with flowers around her and her hands clasped across her chest. The rest of the house is as if they had opened the doors this morning to let in the sun god” he added.

  All eyes fell on Aengus as he nodded and turned back to the seated man with an appraising look, the eyes of the elderly, seated, Roman staring straight ahead through the knot of soldiers who stood before him. “It’s a ritual, Leader” he said as he pointed to the oils. “These men are sacrificing themselves as their women have sacrificed themselves. They dress in their rich clothes to greet their ancestors in their halls of the dead. Look, he holds his symbols of his life, his staff of office and his cap must also mean something of a position he held in this city. There are no ghosts” he continued as he moved to walk freely among the watching Gauls. “No spirits abide here. It is the old giving way to the new in the same way that our glorious Leaders sacrifice themselves for the greater good of the Senones” he said thrusting his chest out and striking it with his fist. “There is nothing here to be afraid of” he added with a smile as he looked around the men.

  The tall warrior with the plaited hair stepped forward and poked the old Roman again, laughing at him as he spoke in his deep guttural drawl “You are no ghost, Roman.” The Roman edged back a little on the chair but apart from that shuffle he didn’t move. Leaning down the Gaul gripped the old man’s short beard and tugged at it, moving the man’s head down with a jerk and bringing a grunt from the man as his brows furrowed in anger. Quick as a whip his right hand shot out and the gold-topped ivory cane thrashed the Gaul across the temple causing a moments silence amongst the watching men before the Gaul roared and drew his sword, the noise of the Roman taking a deep breath and sitting taller in his chair as his eyes closed ready for the strike was the only audible sound. Brennus nodded as the angry Gaul stared belligerently at his leader before the massive warrior took an enormous swing at the seated man, the iron biting into the Senators neck and in one swift movement removing his head, the body falling to the left of the swinging blade as Aengus darted under the swing and stared at the body as the fingers twitched and one of the legs kicked out and spilled the oil, the candle catching it as it too was cascaded across the floor. The orange flames caught the toga as the warrior continued to scream at the dead man and a great roar of approval came from the surrounding Gauls.

  Brennus watched closely as Aengus poked the flames with his curved blade and smiled, as the blood of the Senator spilled into a thick red pool. “What do the gods say?” he asked, bending to speak to the kneeling druid.

  Aengus looked up, his eyes wide as he said, “The leg has kicked at the religious objects” he pointed to the upturned bowl “which says that the gods have given up on these Romans.” He crept back and nodded to the small orange flames, which were already starting to die. “The gods are telling us to burn the city to the ground, to destroy all memory of these Romans” he added with his teeth showing through his tightly stretched mouth. Brennus nodded and turned to the waiting warriors.

  “You heard the words of the gods” he said as he took his sword from its scabbard with a long scrape and started to walk towards another seated Senator. “Kill them all and burn their houses” he yelled as the sword swept in a long arc and connected with the neck of the Roman. As the man’s head bounced to the floor the Gauls screamed and ran up the road at the waiting Senators and dashed into the houses, the noise of chaos starting to rise above the city of Rome.

  ************

  Chapter 12

  The noise from the city below had grown into a gut-wrenched crescendo as the thousands crowded onto the Capitol Hill watched the scene below them. Groups of people cowered against walls, hid behind corners or simply sat hunched against the small packs of their belongings as tears were shed for the city they loved as the thick smoke belched into the sky. Wherever they stood or sat they did so in sil
ence, the only sound audible was that of the animals. Having packed the Capitol Hill, dragging their animals, their children and the few belongings they were allowed to bring up the steep climb to the table top of the Hill where the enormous temple to Jupiter Greatest and Best stood with its commanding view over the city, the Romans appeared beaten. As the acrid smell of smoke began to crawl into their lungs and filled the afternoon sky dogs barked, brought for their defensive qualities, and animals milled about in the tight enclosures which had been hastily created for them.

  Amongst the thousands of people crammed onto the hill in front of the temple Senator Gaius Javenoli stood with his hand covering his mouth as he stared down into the city below him. To his front right and away towards the river were the houses surrounding the Forum Boarium, the cheaper houses of the plebeians which were mostly made of wood. As he watched he saw the flames beginning to grow as screams and shouts came from the houses. People were still down there, barricaded in their houses in a vain attempt to avoid the Gauls. The distant sound of metal on metal could be heard somewhere deep in the middle of the flames as some of those who had remained fought for their lives, the shouting coming in indistinct waves as he turned his head slightly to stare at the scene, too far away to see anything clearly.

  “Master.” A low voice turned his attention away from the noise. He turned to his slave, the tight muscles bunched under his tunic, and blinked away the confusion that staring at the burning houses of Rome left in his mind.