Marius' Mules II: The Belgae (31 page)

Fronto looked
to his left, where he stood in the second line, stabbing out
between his men’s shoulders, and saw Priscus, laughing like a
demon, as he waded into the enemy. He sighed and settled into the
routine of a legionary advance. It was so familiar and simple after
weeks of commanding unusual units in strange circumstances. He’d
almost forgotten what it was like and what to do when placed on a
real battlefield with regular veterans.

Priscus
shouted at him.

“
We’ll never manage to stop them getting to the
town!”

Fronto shook
his head in the press.

“
No, but we can whittle down their numbers by quite a few
thousand before they get there.”

The advance of
the line had now slowed. The press of men ahead was too great and
tightly packed, and the legions dropped back to the traditional
slow advance of the shield wall, systematically butchering anyone
before them.

Nodding to
himself with satisfaction, Fronto allowed his legion to pass around
him and retreated through the ranks until he reached the rear of
the Tenth, where he stepped out into the open air with the relief
of a long-confined man. Just ahead he could see Labienus on
horseback, accompanied by several tribunes, watching the
advance.

“
Titus… Sorry I didn’t give you the opportunity to give the
orders. There just wasn’t time.”

Labienus
nodded, frowning.

“
Not a problem, Fronto. I’m a little chilled by this butchery
though. The Roman way is to face them head on and fight like men.
It doesn’t sit well with me attacking fleeing warriors.”

Fronto
sighed.

“
I do know what you mean, but they still outnumber us at least
five to one. We need to even the numbers a little. It’s not like
they sued for peace, after all. They’re just falling back and the
moment they group together again, they could hit us like a
hammer!”

The two men
watched the carnage below and it took a moment for them to notice
the small group of riders thundering back toward them.

“
Is that Varus?”

Labienus
frowned and shaded his eyes.

“
I believe it is.”

They sat and
watched as the half-dozen cavalrymen made their way to the command
unit and finally came to a halt, breathing heavily, their horses
snorting and stamping.

“
Gentlemen?”

“
What’s happening, Varus?”

“
The Belgae are falling apart now. A large bunch; the
Suessiones, I assume, made it to the oppidum, though we must have
killed hundreds on the way. The Bellovaci are out of reach, way
ahead and making for their own lands, but we can leave them to the
Aedui if what Caesar says is true. What you have below is about
sixty thousand warriors from mixed tribes but, if you look ahead,
they’re already splitting up and going their own way. We can’t
follow them all.”

Fronto nodded.
Already, the force Priscus was busy pushing into was fragmenting,
the Belgic warriors running in a dozen different directions. The
shield wall was stretching to reach the enemy. At the top of his
voice, he bellowed “Melee!”

Below, the
legions bust forth into individual combat, fighting any target that
presented itself, but even that would shortly be useless. He
shrugged. They had reduced the Belgae by thousands in one afternoon
with hardly any casualties to show for it. Why did it worry him
that he felt less satisfaction with it that when he’d led a few
non-Roman archers to victory at Bibrax?

“
Well, I suppose we make camp in the valley until Caesar
arrives. Let’s hope he’s in a better mood this time.”

Chapter 11

(On the plain
outside Noviodunum.)

“
Vineae: moveable wattle and leather wheeled shelters that
covered siege works and attacking soldiers from enemy
fire.”

“
Immunes: legionary soldiers who possessed specialist skills
and were consequently excused the basic more onerous
duties.”

Caesar tapped
his fingers irritably on his belt as he strode up and down before
the staff officers. Fronto sighed once again as he looked past the
general to the seven legions marshalled in readiness between the
officers and the walls of the Suessiones’ oppidum.

“
Time is of the essence, gentlemen. I want Noviodunum in our
hands by nightfall. The other tribes are fleeing back to their
lands and we need to move against them before they have enough time
to prepare for another full engagement. We do not have time for a
great siege or protracted campaign of starvation. I need the men to
get in there as soon as possible.”

Fronto cleared
his throat.

“
I’ve spoken to both Tetricus and Pomponius and they are
adamant that any assault against that place without proper
preparations is a complete waste of time.”

Caesar stopped
pacing and glared at him.

“
It’s not my fault, general,” Fronto spread his hands
defensively, “but the engineers know what they’re talking about. I
know you’re in a hurry to move on, but the job will just have to be
done a certain way.”

There was a
low rumbling from Caesar’s throat.

“
No, Fronto. Today! It has to be today. Now, in fact… so give
me ideas, not arguments.”

Fronto settled
into a growl once again. This was sheer idiocy.

“
The only ideas we have involve siege engines, general. There’s
just no way to cross that ditch safely. It’s too deep and too wide.
And the walls beyond are too thick and too high. You can throw a
million men against the place and you’ll just waste a million
men.”

Plancus raised
a hand and stepped forward, causing Fronto to shake his head in
dismay.

“
Then we must concentrate on the causeways across to the gates
in the wall. Battering rams. We can break down the
gates.”

Caesar nodded
appreciatively, but Fronto’s growl resumed.

“
Bollocks.”

“
I beg your pardon?” Plancus demanded in a high-pitched
shriek.

“
Those causeways are wide enough for forty men abreast at most.
Factor in a battering ram and you’ve barely got room for the men on
either side to operate it. And no one to protect them.”

Caesar was
looking back and forth between the two of them quietly.

“
So use vineae!” screeched Plancus.

“
If you could fit bloody vineae over those causeways, do you
not think I’d have mentioned it? The causeway is too
narrow!”

He turned to
the silent officers behind him.

“
Am I repeating myself, or am I actually not saying anything?
Can you hear me? Are any words coming out?”

The legate of
the fourteenth had gone purple.

“
So we’ll have the men on either side of the rams form a roof
with their shields then!”

Fronto
grinned. He was starting to enjoy this.

“
While the battering ram trundles on propelled by what? Moles?
The breeze? Listen to me, Plancus…”

He illustrated
his words by speaking with exaggerated slowness and waving his
arms.

“
The… cause… way… is… too… na… rrow!”

Plancus was
actually vibrating slightly.

“
Then what do you suggest, Fronto?”

He smiled.

“
You know the answer to that. A siege.”

Caesar shook
his head.

“
No, Fronto. That’s not good enough. I want Noviodunum today.
We will conduct a grand assault with all seven legions against the
main gate. The auxiliary units will provide fire to pick off the
defenders atop the walls. The legions will cross the causeway and
the ditch wherever they can and we will have that gate down with a
ram as soon as it can be brought across, and the walls down with
grapples. It can be done. To your units, gentlemen.”

Fronto and
Crispus stalked away from the general under the aggravated gaze of
Plancus, as the legate of the Tenth kicked at the ground
irritably.

“
It can’t be done. I’ve known the engineers long enough to know
that when they say it’s a waste of time, it’s not wise to ignore
them.”

Crispus nodded
unhappily as the command cornicens behind them blew out a series of
commands. Fronto watched the legions ahead begin to move slowly
forward, the auxiliary archers rushing around the edge to find
positions they could fire from. A huge tree-trunk ram was being
manhandled by a century of men and taken down to the rear of the
regulars as they moved. Fronto slowed his walk and Crispus raised
an eyebrow.

“
You’re not joining your men, Marcus?”

Fronto growled
again.

“
Waste of time. I can’t do anything to help and Priscus knows
how to keep the men as safe as possible. Frankly, I want nothing to
do with this.”

For a moment
he pondered, then lightly punched Crispus in the upper arm.

“
Unless you feel the urgent need to die in a ditch with your
men, come with me.”

Crispus
frowned and turned to follow Fronto as he veered off to the side.
On a slight rise to the east stood the supply train and wagons of
the army. Sitting, looking rather bored amid carts full of
dissembled machinery, were the members of the legions’ engineering
details assigned to the wagons and, as Fronto expected, Tetricus
stood atop the nearest, staring in dismay at the legions marching
on the high walls of Noviodunum. He saw the two legates approaching
and sighed.

“
I hope you’ve brought some wine, Fronto. This disaster is
going to be hard to watch sober.”

Fronto shook
his head.

“
Sadly, no. I’m here to pick your brains.”

“
You can have them!”

Fronto gave a
weak laugh.

“
The only legate down there stupid enough to believe they can
do it is Plancus. Everyone else is going to do what they can to
preserve the men they have. I know damn well that Priscus is going
to see that I haven’t joined him and take it very carefully. It’ll
be over in a lot less than an hour, for certain. So you need to
start thinking.”

“
What about?”

Ways to get in
there without wasting any more troops. This assault’s doomed and,
as soon as Caesar realises that, we need to present him with the
quickest possible way of taking the place before he decides on
another frontal assault.

“
Oh shit. Will you look at that?”

Fronto and
Crispus turned as Tetricus pointed across the intervening ground to
where the assault was taking place. The legions had reached the
oppidum’s defences and the men were carefully skidding and dropping
down into the wide ditch. It was like watching a waterfall of
people disappearing over a horizon. But that wasn’t the thing that
Tetricus was drawing their attention to. Somehow, during legions’
journey across the intervening space, Plancus had managed to
manoeuvre the Fourteenth to the centre of the force, where Balbus’
Eighth should be.

The green
legion was marching across the causeway. Fronto watched with
mounting dismay as the front lines reached the gate and began to
mill about hopelessly waiting for the battering ram that was being
slowly transferred through the force to the front. Men were dying
so thick and fast there it looked like the Fourteenth might
disappear altogether.

To each side,
men had crossed the deep ditch in reasonable formation and were now
forming testudos to protect them from the many falling missiles
dropped by the defenders. As they watched, soldiers hurled grapples
toward the wall tops. Remarkably few reached the height of the
walls and those that did were instantly dislodged and fell back
into the ditch. The units of auxiliary archers had let off a few
initial volleys, few of which had even crossed the parapet, but had
now wisely packed away their bows and were also watching unhappily.
Once the legions were in the ditch, they had fallen prey as much to
the Roman arrows bouncing off the wall tops as to the defenders’
own missiles.

As they
watched, a massive rock was tipped over the parapet and fell out of
sight into the ditch, where it likely killed several men and
injured many more. Another glance at the causeway confirmed
Fronto’s fears that the Fourteenth may well be gone before they
could bring the ram to bear on the gate.

“
Screw this.”

“
What?” Crispus and Tetricus turned to look at him.

“
We’re going to get Caesar to stop this madness.” He turned to
Tetricus. “And you are going to come up with some ideas on the way
to impress him.”

Without
waiting for them, Fronto stormed at speed back down the slope
toward Caesar.

Arriving
red-faced with his two companions, Fronto pulled himself up to his
full height before the general.

“
What?” the man asked absently, looking past the legate at the
distant fracas.

“
Right…” stated Fronto. “You hate being gainsaid, but you know
me well enough to know that I always have good reasons for what I
do.”

Caesar nodded
vaguely. Fronto carefully positioned himself so that he was in the
way, aggravating the general a little more.

“
You have to stop this. It’s a disaster. If you don’t sound the
recall now, in half an hour you’ll have six legions instead of
seven and the ones you have left will be seriously under-strength.
They’re getting massacred over there! A few days of siege and you
could take the place without all of this.”