THE INVASION OF GAUL (59 page)

Fronto returned the smile.

“
Sounds good. I’d like to see Tarraco again. It’s been a few years now, but I’d lay bets all my favourite inns are the same as ever. You starting up a stable, Gaius?”

Longinus shrugged.

“
Already got stables Marcus, but there’s precious little good Spanish stock in them, and I rather like my Spanish horses. If you want to join me for a month or two, I’ve already got a villa being built near Tarraco. You too, Aulus, if you want.”

Crispus beamed at them.

“
I’ve never visited Spain. In fact, this particular command is the first time I have left the familiar shores of Italy. Good grief, I’ve precious rare been out of Rome itself. I’d be enchanted to join you.”

Fronto glanced out of the tent doorway at the distant sound of the cornicen.

“
Sounds like Priscus has given the call. We’ve got a couple of minutes before they’re fully standing to.”

Crispus squinted out of the doorway and into the sunlight.

“
Regardless of the events of yesterday, I find it impossible to believe that Ariovistus will commit his forces today. How many times have we presented ourselves before his camp and all but
begged
him to engage us? I am certain of one thing: he will refrain from attacking either of our forces as long as he is under threat from both sides.”

Fronto nodded his agreement.

“
I’m no student of grand tactics, but I agree entirely with Aulus. If he’s going to attack us at any time, I’d look to our defences at night, when the two forces are harder to combine. Still, Caesar wants that we present ourselves for battle, so present ourselves we shall.”

Longinus gave them both a crafty grin as he tightened the belt around his chain cavalry shirt.

“
We’ll see him today alright. I can guarantee you.”

Fronto furrowed his brow and squinted suspiciously at Longinus.

“
Alright Gaius, what do you know?”

Longinus stretched, watching the arming process appreciatively; quite grateful he had to wear only a standard cavalry mail shirt.

“
Ariovistus has a very few long-range cavalry scouts still outside the field that come and go at night. He’s now well aware of the train of supply wagons that should reach this very spot not long before dark. He won’t attack until he’s sure he’s only fighting on one front, but he has to destroy this camp by nightfall, or he’s failed to stop our supplies.”

Crispus grinned.

“
So he’s definitely coming, then.”

Fronto’s furrowed brow had not moved.

“
How do you know all about the German’s scouts and what they’ve seen?”

Longinus tapped him on the head and made a hollow sound in his cheek.

“
How do you think I know, Marcus? I’ve had my own scouts marking theirs one on one for days now. I know everything they’ve seen and done.”

Slowly the frown on Fronto’s face fell away, to be replaced with a content smile.

“
I’m going to rip the bastard German’s face off if I get hold of him.”

“
You and every other Roman on the field. Come on, or we’ll be late for your primus pilus, and he takes the piss even when you’re on time.”

Making a few last minute adjustments to the uniforms, the three commanders stepped out into the sun, along with the two legionaries. As the men fell in with their units, Fronto, Crispus and Longinus clasped arms.

“
How long shall we remain in position before we retire to the camp?”

Fronto shrugged.

“
Caesar will give it until noon and then pull the other force back. I would give the Germans maybe an hour after that before they come. It’ll give the men a little time to eat. When we
do
fall back, allow them to go off duty, but make damn sure they’re ready to fall in at a moment’s notice.”

Crispus nodded and Longinus, hauling himself into the saddle, addressed the two legates.

“
Both of you’ll need to be ready, but the cavalry can eat in the saddle. I’ll pull them back to the camp at noon, but I’ll keep them poised and mounted and out of sight. Then, if an attack comes at short notice, we can harry them while the legions fall in.”

With a slightly unsettling smile, Longinus set off for the cavalry on the wing. Crispus saluted Fronto, unnecessarily he thought, and headed off toward the Eleventh.

Fronto turned and walked between the lines of men to the front, where Priscus stood with the tribunes and the signifers and cornicen of the First Cohort. The Tenth, like the Eleventh next to them, were in full battle formation, each century in position within the cohort, each cohort in position within the legion. With half of Longinus’ cavalry on each wing and numerous foot and missile auxiliary units in position behind and beside the legions, they were ready to move.

He glanced briefly behind him at the front rampart of the fort. Tetricus was the only officer not in position with the legion, having volunteered to man the walls and the artillery with the crews. They would doubtful be of any use this morning, even if the Germans
did
attack, but were a gratifying support. Should the legions
be
engaged and have to pull back towards the fort, the Ballistae would take on great importance.

With another glance up and down the lines to be sure that the army was in position, he signalled Priscus and held his arm up, motioning down the front at Crispus. Moments later, horns blew across the field and centurions gave the order to march.

One of Longinus’ men had made a daring dash for the German fort in order to judge the maximum range of their fire. He had marked the range with a cavalry spear plunged into the turf bearing a fluttering pennant.

The Tenth moved out in formation with its allies and marched purposefully across the field. Rarely when moving into combat did Fronto suffer from nerves, but he was uneasy with this situation. Splitting the army may be helpful in protecting supplies, but if the
full
weight of the German army fell on the Tenth and Eleventh, they would be fighting for their lives, hopelessly outnumbered. The only thing that kept him reasonably confident was the fact that Ariovistus had proved time and time again unwilling to commit his entire force in one engagement. With two thirds of the Roman army behind him, he was again unlikely to commit everything to destroy Fronto’s force.

It seemed such a short distance. A few minutes later, he spotted the cavalry spear that marked the limit of German missile capability. With a signal to both Crispus and Longinus, he drew closer and closer to the spear and called a halt six feet behind it.

The figures of the German army were clearly visible moving around behind the defences of their camp. As the legions came to a halt, Fronto craned his head and looked along the line. One of the legionaries hefted his javelin and stared off into the distance. Fronto could understand how he felt, weighing up the distance to the Germans and wondering how strong his arm was. Unfortunately, even if they wanted to unleash a volley or bring up the archers, it was extremely unlikely that a single shot would pass beyond the defences. If they
had
kept the Ballistae on the carts and trundled them forward, they could most certainly have landed a number of heavy bolts within. Still, he had his orders, and they were to occupy the field and offer battle, not to run harrying attacks on the enemy position.

He could see, even from this distance, the unhappy and bored look on the face of Aulus Crispus; a look that was reflected all along the Roman lines. No one liked standing here at attention for four hours on the offchance that the Germans might feel like leaving their rat hole today. They would be feeling complacent due to the repeated failures in drawing Ariovistus out to fight. Fronto was torn between giving orders to stand at ease and remove helmets and maintaining discipline. If they were more relaxed now, they would fight better later, when the Germans
did
come against them. On the other hand, if they let the troops relax and Ariovistus changed his mind and took advantage of the opportunity, then they could be in worse trouble. Damn Caesar for this ridiculous show of military power. Having spent much more time among the lower ranks in the less savoury areas of cities, and among the Gauls and Germans out here, Fronto knew much better ways of starting a fight.

Ridiculous. Turning, Fronto shouted to the equisio who held the reins of his horse toward the back of the legion. The soldier brought the horse forward and Fronto mounted. Looking to the side, he saw Priscus looking up at him, eyebrow raised.

“
Going to check something out.”

“
Don’t get into trouble this time sir.”

“
Trouble? Me?”

Grinning, Fronto trotted off along the front of the army. Reaching the Eleventh, he reined in beside Crispus.

“
Fancy a little ride?”

The young legate smiled.

“
I’d rather like to ride into that infernal pit of Germanic excrescence and lay about me with a sword. I would presume, however, that this is not the ride to which you refer?”

Fronto shrugged.

“
I want to take a look round the other side and see what’s happening with Caesar’s force. I don’t like this being out of touch. And I might be tempted to do something a little stupid and reckless, yes.”

Crispus smiled happily and waved his equisio over. Once he had mounted, he joined Fronto and looked back at his primus pilus.

“
Felix, I’m just going for a little jaunt with the good legate here. We shall return forthwith.”

The two officers trotted off past the cavalry and up the hill among the scattered trees.

“
Wish I had a man called Felix in my legion.” Fronto muttered. “Could do with a bit of luck!”

Crispus smiled.

“
Perhaps not. Despite having carefully pored over all of the records of my officers, I can never recall the man’s real name. Everyone calls him Felix, though I rather get the impression that it is sarcasm. I don’t believe in luck anyway, Marcus. The centurion
is
first-rate at his job, and I hold that it is fate and choice that make or break.”

He glanced sideways at Fronto and smiled.

“
Although it is men like you that make me doubt my creed on occasion!”

Fronto grinned back at him.

“
Look
at me. Do I really
look
lucky?”

“
Everyone to whom I speak believes that you may be the luckiest man in the Roman military!”

“
Huh!”

“
Or do you make your own luck, Marcus?”

Fronto growled.

“
Aulus, I’m not very wealthy. I’m not very talented in anything but killing. I’ve not got enough patience for the Cursus Honorum and position in Rome. My sister and my mother think that I’m a waste of family blood and that the line will die with me. Indeed, the line probably
will
die with me, as the closest I’ve been to a good woman in years are ladies of low morals in Tarraco or Aquileia. I’ll most likely die in a fountain of blood on a field hundreds of miles outside Roman territory.”

He realised he was starting to feel angry and that Crispus might get the impression it was aimed at him, but the ball was rolling downhill now.

“
You and Balbus and the others have a chance. Balbus has his family back in Massilia. You are a very educated man and will go a long way in Rome. Longinus will retire some time to Spain or Umbria and live with his horses; his one passion. Galba will probably own a gladiator Ludus in the end. Crassus will probably rule the Empire unless Caesar beats him to it. Me? I’ll be up to my elbows in blood and guts and drunk every night.”

He was worried for a moment that he’d gone too far. Crispus’ face was mortified. The young legate looked as though one of the Gods had died in front of him. Then he smiled slowly.

“
I’m stuck for words to describe adequately how I feel about that, Marcus, so let me borrow some from one of your men: Shit! Absolute unadulterated drivel. I know you better than you think I do, Marcus Falerius Fronto. You may not be from a ludicrously wealthy family like Crassus, but your family are not poor. After this campaign is over, you will return to Italy a very wealthy man. You have enough reputation that you could secure a very nice post by then. You could be a Governor. Perhaps Spain, since you know it well. Balbus has told me several times what his daughters thought of you. You can have any future you choose Marcus, and I won’t listen to any more self-deluded rubbish.”

Fronto blinked. For a long moment, he stared, and then he laughed; laughed so hard he almost unhorsed himself.

“
Well I can see the other legions from here and they’re just standing there. Let’s get back to our units and let them stand at ease for now. Ariovistus isn’t coming until after lunch.”

* * * * *

The early afternoon sun beat down on the defences where Tetricus chewed on a strip of pork, leaning on one of the ballistae. Squinting across the field he stopped chewing, the pork forgotten for a moment. His eyes strained, unsure whether there was anything out there or whether heat haze and bright sun were playing tricks with his mind and his eyes. Swallowing the mouthful, he leaned across the firing mechanism to the optio who controlled the ballista.