Marius' Mules VII: The Great Revolt (7 page)

‘Our task is to bring all the tribes to us before the spring. That
includes
the Aedui, and they are a difficult proposition, so we take a lesson from the Romans who are experts at this. We play tribes and kings off against each other in the game of power and politics. And if we have planned our moves right, just as Caesar uses tribes to subdue one another without a drop of Roman blood spilled, we will bring all these tribes to our side without the need to take a sword to any of them.’

Critognatos’ sneer jacked up a notch as he put a thumb to his nostril and blew out a wad of snot, bringing sharp looks of disapproval from his companions. ‘I still don’t see how trebling their numbers and trapping us against their walls will achieve that.’

Vergasillaunus opened his mouth to answer but Vercingetorix, finally losing his patience, stepped forward. ‘Just
trust
us instead of all this constant complaint and gainsaying. We have planned this entire campaign down to the last thread, and within the next few days the Bituriges will be ours without a blow delivered. Have you not even an
inkling
as to what is happening?’

‘We’re sitting here and waiting.’

‘I
mean
as to where your brother has gone, for instance?’

Critognatos shook his head, showing no sign of inquisitiveness at all - was the man that unimaginative? ‘Probably rutting with some boy in a field somewhere.’

‘Gah!’ Turning his back on the stocky chieftain from Nemossos, the commander of the army and soon to be King of all the tribes strode off away from the irritating noble, his cousin pacing along at his side.

‘I
am
starting to worry over timing, mind, cousin,’ Vergasillaunus muttered quietly, eying the vast encampment as they walked and noting the signs of tension and ennui here and there. ‘He was right that they have had long enough.’

Vercingetorix looked across at his second-in-command. ‘All proceeds as planned, I am sure.’

A crow above echoed his word with a croak.

‘I hope so. We pin much upon one traitor and one kinsman. And I had thought they would be here by now. Half this army or more will be thinking along the same lines as Critognatos. He may be a borderline lunatic and short on imagination, but he
is
a good yardstick with which to measure the mood of the army.’

‘The traitor will do as we commanded. And if by some miracle he does not, Cavarinos can be trusted to put things back on track. Our friend may have only half the battle-skill of his brother, but he received more than his share of the brains. However the traitor plans to achieve his goal, be sure Cavarinos will keep things right, and we have our part of the plan in place.’

‘I hope you’re right.’ The two men turned their gaze back upon Avaricon, seething in a sea of miasmic fug. ‘I want them on our side, cousin. I would pay a good gold torc just to see Caesar’s face if he has to take
this
city from us.’

* * * * *

Cavarinos tried to catch the eye of Litavicus, but the warrior studiously ignored him.

The Arverni chieftain had been among the Aedui for only two days before events caught up with them. He and Litavicus - a young Aeduan noble apparently in the pay of Vercingetorix - had been met a mile from the vast, sprawling oppidum of Bibracte by the traitor’s brother in law, who seemed hungry for news of the Gallic force gathered at Avaricon, yet more hungry for his share of the gold coins that Litavicus dropped into his hand.

The young men had brought Cavarinos into Bibracte, through the powerful walls and along streets that ran between seemingly endless buildings, and introduced him that night to half a dozen other like-minded Aedui, including one Convictolitanis, a man currently standing for magistrate and effective control of the entire tribe. When faced with allies of this magnitude and assured that they were far from alone, the scale of the task for which they had come to Bibracte seemed diminished a little, though Cavarinos would have liked to have known more of it in advance.

Then, the next morning, six exhausted riders had appeared at the great western gate. A party of weary and wild-eyed horsemen of the Bituriges tribe, they claimed to have ridden like the wind from the oppidum of Avaricon, their tribe’s capital, to seek aid from the Aedui. They were seemingly under siege by the army of Vercingetorix. Cavarinos had felt a nervous jolt at that news. It had begun already. In these circumstances, were he discovered to be of the Arverni himself, his peeled skin would be displayed to the Aedui within hours. And how much could he trust Litavicus and his companions? How much could
anyone
trust an already proven traitor-for-money?

That afternoon, Litavicus had snuck him into a position among heavy, ancient roof beams where he could secretly observe the meeting of the tribal council in a grand hall of timber and stone. He had watched anxiously as events unfolded, aware of the potential for disaster at every turn. The Bituriges had begged for support - a relief force from the Aedui, whose tribe were so much more numerous and powerful than their own. Cavarinos had begun running through arguments against it in his head, wondering how he would get Litavicus to put them forth, but he was saved the effort when one of the tame nobles lining his pockets with Arverni silver had addressed the council.

The man had narrowed his eyes suspiciously as he threw out his arms and reminded those present that the Bituriges were as close to the Arverni as they were to the Aedui. That being the case, and the oath to Rome being so readily forgotten among the tribes these days, how could the Aedui be sure this was not simply a ruse to drag a large Aeduan force off where it could be massacred by Vercingetorix and his rebels? Undoubtedly the new Arverni ‘king’ planned to weaken and break their main opposition, and this had all the hallmarks of a duplicitous Arverni plot. Cavarinos had felt himself exhale in relief. It was a masterful nudge, and had almost persuaded the gathered nobles to refuse their aid to the Bituriges. But then, surprisingly, the magistrate Convictolitanis - claiming the mandate of Rome - had shaken his head. ‘We must
support
our allies in the face of such threat,’ he had announced.

What the hell is he doing?
Cavarinos had thought.
We almost had the Bituriges cut off, until this new turn of argument
. But as he listened a thought had dawned upon him, and everything had quickly fallen into place. Claiming such mandate, the nobleman could act on behalf of Rome without having to actually apprise the legions of anything that was happening. In another genius stroke, the magistrate had kept all these matters from reaching the ears of the Roman commanders. Was that worth the potential threat to Vercingetorix of an Aedui relief army? More than likely. After all, the Romans had to be kept in the dark no matter what happened.

‘We will take a large force of cavalry and infantry to aid the Bituriges,’ the magistrate had announced, and once the approving and affirmative buzz had died down, the council had argued briefly before assigning command of that force to the same young Litavicus who had guided Cavarinos to the oppidum a few days earlier.

And now here they were, a day and a half later, closing on the wide Liger River which drew a natural boundary between the territory of the two tribes as it wound north and west on its great journey to the cold, unforgiving sea. The half dozen Bituriges riders accompanied them, satisfied that their capital would now be saved by the Aedui. Cavarinos had hidden his serpentine Arverni arm-ring in his pack and appeared to all intents and purposes just one more horseman in a faceless crowd of Aedui warriors, hungry for blood. What would happen when this sizeable force reached the army at Avaricon, Cavarinos could hardly suspect.

The slightly frosted dew on the turf left a trail of hoof and boot prints a hundred paces wide as the column slowly but inexorably descended on their target. Cavarinos pinched the bridge of his nose and winced.

Vercingetorix had tasked him with supporting Litavicus in his plan, though the niceties of that plan had been basic and vague at best. Neither Vercingetorix nor Litavicus had imparted the details to him, barring the basic essentials, in the knowledge that this way, should he be discovered, he could not imperil the whole plot. But once Litavicus had left the meeting with the Arverni king, Cavarinos had also been given the quiet word to make sure that the young Aeduan did not switch sides once more and betray them all.

So the Aeduan force was riding on Avaricon. What to do now? Trust that the traitor had something up his sleeve, or try and find a way to stop the advance? He had pondered the choice time and again since they left Bibracte, but continued to go along with Litavicus based solely on the premise that if the man intended further betrayals, there would be no reason to preserve Cavarinos’ anonymity and he would have been revealed and dealt with brutally. The Arverni noble’s ongoing survival suggested that Litavicus was still with them.

‘The bridge,’ called one of the warriors at the van, his breath pluming impressively as he rode back to the main force, which moved by necessity at a fast walking pace, limited by the speed of their slowest units. As the watery, cold sun neared its unimpressive apex, the army reached the slope that led down to the bridge across the Liger.

Cavarinos blinked.

On the rise above the far bank stood a force at least the size of their own, waiting. Two thousand warriors massed in three groups, with standards and
carnyx
horns rising above their heads and glittering in the pale light, a thousand more cavalry spread out in small parties among them. They waited before the treeline, but there were no birds in those trees, and that suggested the woods were also full of men - archers, perhaps? Before Cavarinos could express his own surprise, shouts and roars arose from the men surrounding him and the Aedui standards were waving to halt the column.

‘
The magistrate was right
!’

‘
Traitorous dogs
!’

‘
What now
?’

Chaos was pulled to order by the shouts of Litavicus and calls blasted through bronze horns. The six Bituriges among them were hustled back to the commander and, confused, Cavarinos edged his own mount back through the press to be within earshot.

‘Your purpose becomes clear!’ snarled Litavicus at the Bituriges riders before him. Cavarinos had to be impressed at the disgust and disdain prevalent in the man’s anger. It had clearly all been planned, so the young Aeduan was apparently a consummate actor.

‘I do not understand,’ blabbered one of the half dozen Bituriges, his head snapping back and forth between the angry face of the Aeduan commander and the sizeable force gathered across the river.

‘Who are
they
?’ hissed Litavicus, jabbing an angry finger at the opposing army.

‘They must… must be Arverni,’ another of the six stuttered in panicked confusion.

‘Really? Squint against the light and tell me what standards you see among them.’

A suspicion settled on Cavarinos and he did just that, having to fight to keep a slow smile from spreading across his face. Barely visible, they were, but if you squinted and strained, you could just make them out.

‘Horses,’ admitted the deflated Biturige rider.

‘Yes.
Braid-maned
horses. Several of them. And I think you know what the braid-maned horse means?’

Yes
, Cavarinos thought, his mind working fast to put this puzzle together,
Bituriges
. They were the horse-standards of the Bituriges!

‘But I do not understand,’ spluttered the panicked rider. ‘How did they leave the oppidum? The Arverni must have left…fled the area…’

Cavarinos was fighting to keep that smile contained. He had seen unbraided horses on other standards… those of Vercingetorix’s staunch allies, the Carnutes, for example. The Carnutes, who were so deeply involved that they had loosed the first arrow of the war. Whose lands were close by, to the north, a stone’s throw from Avaricon. The Carnutes who’d had no task as yet but to join the main force at Avaricon. So long as the Aedui and the six panicked Bituriges did not make that same connection… time to nudge them further into suspicion of treachery.

He coughed to disguise the slight bark of laughter that had escaped despite all his efforts. ‘No,’ he announced, and for the first time Litavicus looked over at him. Cavarinos pointed at the army across the river. ‘As well as the many boars and the few braided horses, in the two larger groups, see the winged serpent of the Arverni among the third.
Betrayal
!’ he announced, echoing the thoughts rushing through the assembled force. ‘They seek to entrap us and thus weaken our tribe.’

Without warning, three of the Bituriges kicked their horses into action, fleeing the scene. Only two of them made it past the vanguard’s thrusting weapons, the third receiving a bronze spear point through the spine for his troubles, the shaft waving for a moment before the man fell from his steed and nearby Aeduan warriors rushed over to hack the unfortunate to pieces. From the angle at which he rode, it appeared that one of those pair who
had
made it was now living on time borrowed from the halls of the dead, clutching his side as a steady spray of crimson droplets left a trail across the green-white grass.

Before Cavarinos could say anything more, in anger, the assembled Aedui had slain the remaining three Bituriges among them, hacking at their necks with swords and impaling their torsos on long spears. One of the more rabid Aeduan riders made to follow the fleeing pair, his already-blooded sword brandished, but Litavicus called them back.

‘Leave them to their fate,’ he ordered. ‘This fight is not for us. Let the treacherous Bituriges wallow under the rule of the Arverni. Back to Bibracte!’ He managed to catch Cavarinos’ eye for a heartbeat as he turned, and there was a barely-perceptible nod. The job was done.

The force slowly turned, putting its back to the mysterious force of Arverni and Bituriges and making for the great oppidum of Bibracte once more. Cavarinos gave the army across the river a last brief glance, picturing them removing the wooden braids they had used to turn Carnute standards into Biturige ones. He wished he could see the trapped tribes folk in Avaricon when those two riders made it back to tell them that the Aedui were not coming and that they were on their own. The leaders’ resolve to defy Vercingetorix would crumble within the hour!