THE INVASION OF GAUL (20 page)

In a panic now, he staggered forward and wrenched open the flap of his tent. There lay Cominius, a cavalry spear through his chest pinning him to the grass. The slick, tin-scented blood ran in a small rivulet down the grass just inside the tent flaps. Frantically moving, he slipped once more and came down next to the body. He became aware that he was shouting. Shouting wildly. Nothing had prepared him for this.

The next thing he knew, he was being helped into a seated position by Priscus, the cloaked figure of Balbus leaning over the body.

“
Should’ve been me. Meant to be me.” It was all he could find to say.

Balbus leaned down over Fronto.

“
Did you see anyone?”

Fronto shook his head woozily as visions of imagined assassins swam through it.

Balbus stood once more and addressed the primus pilus.

“
Centurion Priscus, call the Tenth to attention.”

He looked around for anyone else he knew.

“
You!

Velius staggered where he was crouched over the body, the bandages still wrapped round his head.

“
Velius sir!”

“
Get to the Eighth. Call them to attention. Then get to Longinus and send him to me. Don’t tell him anything; just tell him Fronto needs him. When you see the Tenth’s camp guards on the way past, send them here too.”

* * * * *

The detachment of camp guards were first to arrive. To avoid embarrassment in front of the rank and file, Balbus had sent Priscus into one of the rear rooms, supporting the visibly shaken Fronto.

The guards were understandably surprised to see the legate of the Eighth standing in their commander’s tent and two of them had levelled javelins at Balbus before he spoke.

“
In the absence of legate Fronto and centurion Priscus, I am temporarily assuming command of this unit. There has been an incident involving your commander and he has been removed to his private rooms for the time being. I want that body searched, and a perimeter set up around this tent. Absolutely no one comes in or goes out without the permission of myself or your commanders.”

The guards slammed their sword-hilts against their chest armour in salute and ran outside to relay orders to the other soldiers. ‘Probably relieved to have something to do and not have to make decisions’, thought Balbus.

A minute later, Fronto stormed out of the back room, red faced and angry, his hair matted at the back with his own blood, and covered with the smears of Cominius’.

“
I’m gonna find the bastard!”

Drawing his sword from its sheath on the table, he made for the entrance. Priscus appeared from the back room and ran over, grasping his legate by the shoulder.

Balbus gently plucked the sword from Fronto’s hand and passed it back to Priscus.

“
What you are going to do, Marcus, is go to my headquarters under guard. I’m not losing the only other legate in this army that I really trust just because he’s suffering a concussion. Anyway, the culprit will be long gone by now, so we’ll have to identify him somehow.”

Fronto struggled a moment longer against Priscus’ grip.

Balbus smiled reassuringly at the primus pilus.

“
I know it’s your legion when he’s not here, but I think you need to go with him. Do your trust me to run things for an hour or so?”

Priscus gave him a hard glance, still maintaining his grip on Fronto.

He nodded.

“
Come on sir. It’ll do none of us any good if they get a second try.”

Fronto gave up and allowed Priscus to help him from the tent.

A few minutes later the tent flap opened with no knock. Longinus came in at high speed, Velius hot on his heels. Glancing down as he entered, Longinus gestured to the trickle of blood on the floor.

“
What’s the silly old sod got himself involved in now?”

Balbus stood over the body that lay draped with a red military cloak.

“
Velius. Get out there and make sure the guard have been replaced. Take command, but stay close. I want to see you afterwards.”

Velius saluted and stepped outside.

Once he was sure they were truly alone, Balbus removed the cloak from the body.

Longinus whistled through his teeth.

“
I can see why you sent for me.”

He crouched down and examined the spear.

“
Problem is that we’ve had literally thousands of recruits since Caesar requested them from our allies. They all give one word names and half of them are the same or so close as to make no odds. Equipment’s a shambles. Even if I run a complete roll call, I can’t be sure I’ll know whose spear is missing.”

Balbus grimaced at his opposite number.

“
These Gauls are supposed to be our allies. How the hell did one of them get in here, and particularly armed?”

Longinus shrugged.

“
A matter to discuss with the gate guard, I’d say.”

He looked down at the spear.

“
Fronto led the attack against the Helvetii by the river. I saw the way they looked at him. He’s at least as much a figure of hatred among them at the moment as Caesar is. There are more of them out there than of us. You know as well as I do that with this number of men in the field, all serving in different units, keeping track of individuals becomes a nightmare. Hell, with all the auxiliaries here, it’s hard enough to keep track of a unit!”

Balbus scratched his head and Longinus continued.

“
There are hundreds of ways someone could pull this off. We may find the culprit, but I wouldn’t pin your hopes on it.”

Longinus stood and pulled himself up straight.

“
We’ll have to tell the General.”

“
Not yet.”

“
What?” Longinus wheeled on the older legate. “He
has
to know if something like this is going on.”

Balbus grabbed Longinus by the arm.

“
I don’t think Fronto would want it brought to his attention yet and if we want a chance to catch our assassin, we don’t want to make this public. Maybe we can make this work to our advantage.”

For a few long moments Longinus tried to pull away. Finally he stopped pulling and gently prised open the older man’s hand.

“
Fronto may be a bit of a smarmy bastard, but I’d hate to see him get skewered. The Ninth would never get over it. They still think of him as theirs. What do you want me to do?”

Balbus smiled gently.

“
I’ll deal with matters here, and I’ll meet you at your HQ afterwards.”

Again Longinus hesitated, but finally nodded.

“
Then we’ll all meet for breakfast in my tent. Fronto and Priscus included, agreed?”

Balbus returned the nod.

As Longinus left, Balbus leaned out of the tent flap. Glancing around, he could see Velius giving commands to a group of guards.

“
Centurion Velius, if you please.”

The grizzled man turned and made his way to the tent.

Once he was inside and alone with the legate, the older man dropped the leather flap into place. Beckoning Velius to the rear of the tent, he bade him sit.

“
Centurion. You are in the Second Cohort, are you not?”

Velius nodded.

“
I thought so. I want you to take the chief centurionate for your cohort. It’s a field commission, but I feel fairly sure that Fronto will make it official when he’s back in the morning. Do you accept?”

Velius nodded curtly.

“
Good. No false humility. Just what I expect. You
do
realise what you’ve let yourself in for, yes?”

Velius’ face took on a look of puzzlement.

“
Not sure I understand what you mean, sir?”

Balbus smiled a humourless smile.

“
That puts you third in line. Fronto’s more and more busy with staff duties, and I think your primus pilus is getting used to commanding the legion. That makes you second in command rather often. It’s not a nice duty, but I think you can handle it. Still want it?”

Velius nodded. “I can do it sir, and I want to get this sorted.”

“
I know you can do it. First job’s a little unpleasant though. You need to staunch any hint of a rumour about what happened tonight. I mean
every
hint. Understand?”

Again, Velius nodded.

“
You need to get to the legion’s chief surgeon as soon as I leave. Get some of his orderlies to collect the body and keep it out of sight in the hospital. Circulate the word that Cominius died tonight of a seizure. Get the surgeon to support you. We don’t want word of assassins leaking out.”

Another nod.

“
Finally, when I leave here, I’ll send Fronto and Priscus back. You need to make sure they’re seen in the camp in full control. I would suggest you get a few of the officers together and have a small drink before retiring. Fronto will need it and we need to staunch any rumours of his demise. In the morning the two of them are to join us in Longinus’ tent and you are in charge of the Tenth. Understood?”

“
Sir.” Velius nodded a final time and pulled himself rigidly to attention.

“
Alright. Get someone to deal with this man’s effects. You’ll have to arrange a cremation in the morning.”

Balbus removed the spear gently from the still shape of Cominius and turned to leave. As he walked briskly down the Via Decumana toward the gate, cavalry spear held in hand, he could hear Velius behind him, bellowing out orders from the command tent.

He heaved a sigh and glanced at the spear. A Roman spear, meant for a Roman officer. There could be all sorts of reasons a member of a Gaulish tribe serving with the cavalry might want to kill a successful general. It
was
war after all, but it didn’t make it right or acceptable. It had been many years since the civil war and Balbus had no wish to live through another time like that. War should be up-front and above board, not sneaking and murdering.

He found Longinus in the camp of the Ninth and persuaded the man to join him for a walk down by the stream. As the two officers strolled along the bank, moonlight flashing off the rippling water and the constant rush and babbling filling the air, Balbus felt himself relax for the first time in over an hour.

“
We need to talk about this.”

Longinus turned his head and nodded, almost imperceptibly in the darkness. Balbus went on.

“
I’ve had word circulated that Cominius died of a seizure. I know that won’t fool the assassin, but I don’t want to set panic or suspicion among the legions. We don’t want any word of assassination going out, or the killer will go to ground. One thing’s sure: by morning he’ll know he failed to kill Fronto.”

“
He probably already knows that.”

Balbus shook his head.

“
I don’t think so. If he’s a recently recruited Gaul, he won’t know one officer from another apart from his own unit. He wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between Cominius and Fronto at speed in the dark. No. He’ll be feeling self-satisfied tonight.”

Longinus nodded.

“
I suppose so. There’s not much we can do right now, but I’ll have a think on the matter and see what I can come up with.”

“
Plenty of time tomorrow, while we move. You’re going to have to keep those Gaulish cavalry under a watchful eye, though.”

Chapter
7

(Deep in Aedui land)

“
Burial Club: A fund looked after by the standard bearer that each legionary pays into to cover costs of funerals and monuments to fallen colleagues.”

“
Signifer
:
A century’s standard bearer, also responsible for dealing with pay, burial club and much of a unit’s bureaucracy.”

“
Magna Mater: The Goddess Cybele, patron of nature in its most raw form”

The funeral of Cominius took place the next day not long after sunrise. The signifer had doled out appropriate funds, men of Cominius’ century under the supervision of Velius had cut plenty of timber and erected a funeral pyre and the unit’s stonemasons had hastily cut and chiselled a tombstone in memory of the fallen man. Cominius had been a popular officer, and only a small amount had to be drawn from the burial club, the stonemasons labouring several hours for free. His worldly goods remained packed in his tent, ready to be distributed as his will attested.

The smoke from the burning pyre drifted across the ranks, the acrid yet sweet smell of burning meat filling the nostrils of the watching soldiers. Red dress-uniform crests were being worn atop every helm in the watching crowd, with the exceptions of Velius and Fronto, both of whose skulls remained too tender to allow the press of metal.

Fronto had been the one to light the pyre, and had stepped forward from the Tenth, where he stood as their legate, the torch extended in his hand. Unhooking one of the medals from his dress harness, he had attached it to the flaming mass, extended the burning tip the kindling and watched it spring into life, the flames quickly spreading around the wooden bier.