Vae Victis

by Francis Mulhern

  “Yes.”

  “The lady will speak with you now” the slave said quietly, his eyebrows rising as he smiled before checking around to see that the other onlookers hadn’t heard his words. Javenoli glanced at the hundred or more citizens who were standing or sitting along the top of the Capitol and watching the scene below. He noted a few Senators talking quietly and saw many heads bowed in prayer as he turned to follow the slave back to the throng of people.

  “Has she agreed?” he asked.

  “She wants assurances” came the reply.

  Javenoli grinned. Assurances he would give her gladly. “Have you spoken to the other slaves, Damos?” he asked quietly as they stepped through a crowd of people who were groaning as they watched their houses across on the Palatine Hill begin to burn. He glanced quickly across and breathed slowly. He’d spend many hours in those houses with his old friends, most of them dead now. He stopped for a second as a great cheer rang from across the hill, several Gauls charging into a house and dragging a score of female slaves from the doorway as others fell to the Gallic blades. Blood and smoke were everywhere and Javenoli gritted his teeth as he shook his head as he turned away.

  “Yes Master” said the slave. “We will have two or three who will do our bidding, but others are too close to their master’s and too frightened” said Damos without looking at Javenoli. The Senator placed a hand on the slaves’ shoulder and smiled into his face before speaking.

  “Remember Damos, keep the slaves close and tell me if their mood changes. I must know” he said as they spotted a red-haired lady sitting on a thick trunk fanning herself with a large feather. Javenoli put on his best smile as he approached.

  “Lady Glavia” he said as he bowed and kissed the outstretched hand that was offered to him, his dry lips feeling the hot hand as he squeezed it gently.

  “Ah Gaius” she said, her voice strained. “Your offer” she whispered conspiratorially with lowered eyes “does it still stand?” she asked, her white face pale against the grey wall behind her.

  “Of course,” he said quickly, his eyes flashing as he glanced left and right and stepped closer to hold her arm and lean in next to her ear. “I’ll have my men move your things right away. You can have the space next to the two olive trees by the grove to Juno. See” he added as his face turned to the west “it is upwind from the animals and is only in the sun late in the day, so you will get the best of the heat at sunset when you will need it most.”

  The lady squeezed his hand tightly. “Oh, Gaius you are such a good man. Alpius should have spent more time with you. Please forgive him” she said in her most condescending voice, one which Javenoli had become accustomed to in his years of dealing with the richer families of Rome. Alpius Mamericus Scipius had been one of Rome’s richest men, his house currently burning on the Palatine Hill behind them. His wife was nearly thirty years his junior, a marriage of convenience for her and her poor family and one which had borne the fruit of an heir within a year of the wedding day. Alpius had been devoted to his wife and son and had, as he was approaching his sixth decade given his place on the Capitol to them as he stayed behind to sacrifice his spirit to Rome in the ceremony of Devotio. His wife had taken his decision very badly and been half carried to the Forum distraught at the loss of her husband and his protection. Javenoli smiled as he helped her to her feet and called for Damos and two other men to bring her trunk, the eleven-year-old boy, her son, followed quietly as they moved, his breeding clear as he walked tall and erect, his face held proudly as he moved.

  Javenoli licked his lips and considered his options. He had gained thirteen signed agreements from the ex-Senators who had given their places on the Capitol to their heirs and family members. At the moment he had six under his patronage, a further two were already struggling with the noise and fear of being alone without the protection of their husbands or fathers. The others seemed strong, some already creating small communities of their family kin along the side of the temple. He grinned. He had hidden the gold and jewels collected from the Senators, buried deep under the flagstone beyond the back of his house. Nobody would find it, and if the heirs didn’t make it off the Capitol, the money and jewels would be his. He smiled at the boy, his dumb, placid, face grinning back at him as Javenoli plotted his demise.

  ***********

  The war council had gathered as the light faded across the hills and the bats darted between the buildings looking for insects. The red glow of the continuing fires and the dank smell of charred wood filled the air as Belinus grunted at a tall Gallic woman who had joined her husband at the discussion. Her light blue eyes looked at him a little longer than they should have, and he smiled inwardly at the gesture, taking his drink and slurping it quickly, the red liquid was soft tasting and fruity and was already starting to make his senses feel a little dull.

  The Roman Forum was crowded with men, women and children and Belinus belched loudly as he spotted his brother away to the right pointing up at the temple which was high on the cliff above them. The warriors had been around the steep sided hill but could find no way up to the top except the two steep roads which faced the back of the Forum, each road piled with debris and defences which his men had failed to break in two attempts. Belinus had blamed tiredness from looting the city as well as the effects of the endless supply of wine they had found which dulled the men’s energy quicker than their own barley beer. Brennus had laughed and posted guards at the road before calling the council meeting, leaving the dead piled against the stones which led to the Capitol. Aengus had disappeared and had not been seen for most of the day until he was spotted pushing over statues that lined the roads and searching the stones as if searching for something in amongst the debris. Belinus could only guess what the druid was doing and had resorted to drinking himself into a stupor and celebrating their victory with the majority of the warriors.

  Brennus and Astonus stepped into the circle of warriors, cheers rising into great shouts of Bren-nus, Bren-nus cascading around fire as the faces of the people of Gaul looked up and raised their cups and drinking skulls to their leader. Astonus was one of the council elders, a man of influence who linked the tribes and families. As a clan leader Brennus knew he must continue to pay each of the clan’s tributes, money, weapons and spoils from the war, and Astonus had been discussing who deserved the most and how to distribute the mountain of goods that was piled across the eastern edge of the Forum.

  Belinus waved his goblet of wine at his brother, who grinned back at him as red liquid slopped over the warrior’s chest.

  “You have started on the wine already, brother? I hope you have saved some for me” Brennus laughed as a few of the closest men grinned and cheered at Belinus.

  “This city has enough of this Roman wine for every man to drink for a year” came the slurred reply as more cheers came from the men.

  Brennus laughed as he slapped Astonus on the back and stepped into the circle of tribal leaders, kicking at one of the large hunting dogs which was licking at the pool of wine which Belinus had spilt. After taking two full cups of wine in two swift movements he stared back out at the expectant faces of his men, most of them already red-eyed with the wine.

  “Leaders.” His tone was serious enough to turn every face towards him. “Today we have taken this city” he waved an arm around the Forum. “You” he said as he caught every eye in the gathering “have pleased the gods by defeating these arrogant Romans” he said as shouts rose from the men, some of the women standing and cheering as their menfolk were clearly incapable of doing so. Brennus smirked at the scene. “The gods tell us to burn this city, take all it has” he said to more cheers. “Yet” his voice lowered, and his brow creased. “We must find food, or we will have to move on. If we stay here for more than a week we will starve. Eat and drink your fill tonight, for tomorrow we will send out search parties to search the city for food and raiding parties to find local towns where we can find meat” he said as he raised his cup to his lips and drained it in
one movement.

  **********

  The night had passed with continued looting as the Gauls stormed across the city, some of the clan leaders taking the better-quality houses and making them their own as gangs of juvenile warriors raided the streets. Fires burned all across the city, and throughout the night death had come to those who had attempted to barricade themselves in their houses rather than flee the city.

  The morning came with a chill wind which presaged the close of the autumn, the weather starting to drift towards the cold months of winter. Brennus dipped his head into the cold water of the fountain at the corner of two roads, gasping and grunting as the continued pain of too much wine threatened to make him throw up again. The noise of men moving around the city more slowly and methodically continued around him as he followed Astonus and a group of men along a narrow roadway until he could smell the burning embers of the storehouse, they had told him about.

  “See” Astonus said with a grimace. “Corn, enough for months. Gone” he said coldly.

  Brennus felt the urge to be sick again but he bit it down, the smell overwhelming him as he clenched his fists and screwed his eyes tightly for a moment. He stood silently and watched the thick black smoke drift into the sky, the burnt food store and all its grain gone. “What do you want me to say Astonus? The men must have their way. If a little of the grain is burnt, I am sure there is more” he said.

  Astonus nodded, trying not to anger his leader. “I agree Brennus” he said with a movement to his right. “We know of two other stores, enough for three or four months” he said as Brennus nodded, the water of the fountain still dripping from his hair. “But you must stop the men burning indiscriminately. Set some order in the search and call the leaders of the clans to account for the food they burn. This morning the Ambarri have taken over two houses by the hill where the Romans have set up their defence and will not let any man pass.”

  Brennus riled at this news. “What?” he barked. “Decorix? I will see to it” he spat as his eyes narrowed and he felt his stomach lurch.

  “That is only the beginning Leader” said the older man as he walked closer to Brennus. “All across the city the clans are taking their own areas, setting road blocks and allowing no one but their own to enter. You must do something” Astonus whispered as the faces of the men around them all looked away.

  Brennus set his jaw into a scowl and cursed the Roman wine he had drunk all night. He huffed loudly and turned away from Astonus, he needed to speak to Belinus and get the tribal leaders together to sort out this mess before it turned into bloodshed; he’d seen it happen too many times before.

  **********

  “We must secure the borders of the town and gather all the animals from the fields” Marcus said to the stony faces of the town council. “The Gallic raiding parties have already murdered the Alliatus family and burned their home to the ground” he said angrily as the men simply stared at him. He ground his teeth but restrained his anger as he turned slowly to look into the faces of the hundred or so men and women who had flocked to the town square to hear the discussion. “You heard what the soldiers of Rome have said about the Gauls” he added as he raised his voice and looked into the eyes of the men at the front of the crowd, mostly old men of forty of fifty summers. “They take no prisoners and offer no ransoms. They will kill every member of this town if they come to raid your homes” he said as he pointed at a stocky short-haired man, his shock white hair cropped close to his head. “You Flavius. You fought with my father. Would you see your women and children put to the sword or will you take up arms against these Gauls” he asked as the man set his jaw tight and faced up to the question with a glint in his eye.

  “I’ll fight” he said with a tone of menace in his voice, his eyes set on Marcus.

  “It is not your decision” said a detached voice from the watching group of men that were the town council. A small thin man with a long burn mark along the side of his face which caused his left eye to half close stepped forwards. “The council will decide” the man said as he stood, his height no more than half way to Marcus’ shoulder. Marcus acknowledged his request to take the rostra and stepped back.

  “We will send riders to see if the Gallic invaders are moving out of Rome or if they are staying” he said firmly. “We cannot rely on these men who have come running to our city like cowards” he snapped, his sharp words echoed by some agreement from the council behind him but received with gasps from some of the assembled crowd. He sneered in the direction of the soldiers. “If they had any guts they would have stayed behind and fought like true Romans, not dropped their spears and run” he added scornfully, which made the burn on his face appear even redder than it was. “We have brave men here in this city who will keep our women and children safe” he added with a pointed stare at Marcus. “We do not need disgraced men from Rome to tell us what to do, Marcus Furius Camillus” he added as he turned his back on the small group which Marcus led. Marcus had dealt with the scorn from the town council for many months, their disregard for his former status causing mistrust and anger whenever they met.

  “This is no small matter Licinius Vetto” Marcus said slowly as he stepped forward again, his eyes looking beyond the small man and into the faces of the remaining council leaders. “The danger you face is beyond anything Rome has faced before. These Gauls have slaughtered nearly twenty thousand brave Romans. Men who fought strongly to keep the city states free and secure” he said as he prowled along the front of the crowd who stood in silence listening to the debate.

  “Rome has fallen” he said as his eyes cast down to the floor and he came to a sudden halt “and who knows what has happened to the thousands who remained. Good men. Good families” he said with passion as he turned back to the watching crowd. “We must protect this town from attacks. Only yesterday the Gauls were seen riding along the road by the river. They could be here any moment” he said as he stretched his neck to look over the crowd, many of the people jerking their heads over their shoulders in sudden fear and mumbling prayers to the gods.

  “Or they could have sacked the city, burnt it to the ground and left” Vetto added quickly, recapturing the gaze of the council leaders as he stepped forwards. “There is no reason to give over our protection to this man” he snarled. His eyes caught Marcus’ with a look of disgust. “How dare he come here and tell us what to do in our own town” he snapped as he turned back to the crowd and smiled broadly at them. As he started to speak again a voice came from the back of the crowd, a call which caught everyone’s attention except Vetto. The man turned his half-scarred face to Marcus and pointed, words falling from his mouth as Marcus simply stared past him to see the crowd parting as a rider thrashed his horse straight towards the crowd, panic overcoming him as he screamed “The Gauls are coming, the Gauls are coming.”

  Marcus turned to Narcius and pointed to the horses, “quick, get the men” he shouted as he ran forwards straight past the gawping Vetto, his angry face turning to see what was happening. “Council” Marcus shouted. “Give Vetto command or give it to me. It doesn’t matter, but one of us needs to organise this defence” he said as the rider fell from his horse and landed heavily, his dark hair matted to his forehead from the sweat of riding to the town. People started to run in panic, dust kicked up as babies started to cry as their mothers wrapped them in their arms and turned to run.

  Flavius ran up to Marcus and pulled out a thin dagger. “What do you want me to do Camillus?” he asked as two other men came alongside him with weapons drawn. Both men were lean and wiry, but their grey hair showed their age. Marcus nodded and turned back to the council as the rider shouted that thirty Gauls were riding fast to the town. His panicky voice was causing more scurrying from the crowd as people darted away to their homes.

  “I will command, as befits my status as former First Spear of the first century” Vetto snarled, his voice weak in the noise of panic that had spread around the square.

  Marcus looked at Vetto and then b
ack at the council. “Decide” he bellowed as the men stared at each other unsure what to do. Flavius shouted Camillus as other men called for Vetto and the elders seemed dumbstruck by the sudden change in the square.

  Marcus turned to Vetto and stared at him. “What will you do to defend the town” he said urgently as he bent towards the man.

  Vetto looked up at the taller Roman and fixed his eyes on his. “Barricade the road, spears at the ready and push the bastards back” he spat as his eyes narrowed and his teeth grimaced through the stubble on his face.

  Marcus held his gaze. “Then give me permission to take my men out to meet them on the road.” His eyes remained fixed on Vetto as the old men of the council started to shout at each other, none able to decide who to appoint.

  Vetto’s eyes narrowed into slits. “You just want the glory” he spat again.

  “Then ride with me” Marcus replied instantly.

  Vetto’s eyes danced in his head as he calculated what had been said. “You will listen to my orders” he stated warily.

  “I will listen, but I might not agree or act on them” Marcus said in reply.

  Vetto half-smiled, his eyes gaining a faraway look, which with a half-burnt face was not a pretty sight. “Deal” he said as he thrust out his hand. Marcus grasped it tightly and the two men turned and raced off towards the approaching horses as the council stood and shouted at them, asking what was happening.

  Within a few heartbeats twenty riders were assembled in the square, Vetto holding an ancient sword which was half the length of his body and seemed too heavy to grip. “Cornelius” Vetto shouted at a helmeted soldier who was busy trying to organise men into a line. Cornelius whipped his head around to see who was shouting and held his hands up as he looked at the soldiers on their horses. “Get a barricade across the road at the fountain by the olive grove” Vetto shouted. “All spears” he added as his horse skittered. “And be careful” he added as he kicked the horse into a trot and set off down the road after Marcus and his men.