‘Sir?’
‘What do you think? I am thinking that they will not come for us?’
Quadratus, teeth grinding, nodded. ‘Could have told you that earlier, sir. They have no reason to. Our reinforcements are nowhere to be seen, but the Suevi cannot be more than an hour or two away. All the Treveri have to do is sit tight on that hill and watch us die.’
Labienus took a deep breath and turned it into a sigh. ‘I am beginning to think you are right. We are endangering ourselves with every breath we wait here. Time to return to the fort and hope the other legions join us before the Treveri and their Germanic allies.’
He raised his hand in defeat.
‘Very well, give the orders. We fall back.’
Quadratus, his eyes burning with irritation, nodded and began to give the orders. As his signifers, musicians and decurions relayed the commands, Labienus waved to him.
‘Walk with me, Quadratus.’
The cavalry prefect walked his horse forward as the commander began to amble gently back across the field, the legions already responding to signals and turning, marching back across the slope towards the rise and the woods, beyond which, at some fourteen miles distance, lay their fort. What a disastrous waste of effort. Quadratus could almost scream with frustration.
‘You disapprove of my decisions, prefect?’
‘Never, sir.’ Yes… yes I do!
‘And despite having served under my command for more than a season, you do not think to question why I push for such pointless advances only to abandon my position and retreat without forcing the issue?’
‘Sir?’
‘Quadratus, I never do anything uninformed or without serious contemplation of all possible results first. Unfortunately, I cannot always make my intentions clear, even to such as yourself.’
Quadratus frowned again as they approached the rear edge of the field, where the army was already moving away from the river, across the ridge and back towards the fort.
‘Respectfully, sir, if you’re going to metaphorically pull a dove out of my arse, I would appreciate enough warning to metaphorically drop my underwear first.’
Labienus barked out a laugh and kicked his horse into a slightly faster pace as he rose to the crest of the hill. Grumbling, Quadratus joined him, and stopped suddenly at the hill top.
‘What? Where?’
‘Your next questions, I think, will be when and how, since the who is plain?’ Labienus chuckled as the pair looked down upon the bulk of the Seventh and Ninth legions arrayed for battle, safely out of sight of the Treveri beyond the river, the ridge keeping them obscured. ‘The ‘what’ is fifteen cohorts drawn from the Seventh and Ninth, along with their artillery hidden in the treeline. The auxilia and five more cohorts have returned to secure our fort and accompany the whole of Caesar’s baggage train that is now entrusted to us. The ‘where’ is safely out of sight of the Treveri. The ‘when’ is all the time we’ve been setting up, they have already been ready to fall into place. They arrived immediately after us from the south, unnoticed. And the ‘how’? Well, I think that’s obvious. Dispatch riders organised everything. Now the Twelfth will fall into position with them, and three legions will await the Treveri attack.’
‘What attack?’ bumbled Quadratus, feeling as though a rug had been whipped out from under his feet.
‘That, my friend, is why I could not inform you of my plans. Just as I have my spies and scouts among the Treveri and the Mediomatrici, this new king has his spies among our Gallic auxilia under your command. Everything had to look natural to them, so I relied upon your fury and irritation at my decisions translating nicely to them. Even now, half a dozen of your riders will have slipped away from your units and taken news of the authenticity of our fearful retreat to the Treveri. They will, of course, want to deal with us before we can get safely behind fort walls.’
‘A feint? This whole thing has been a giant feint?’
‘Indeed. I wondered over the past few weeks whether to weed out the spies in our ranks. My own spies have identified a number of theirs, of course. But it struck me that misinformation could be more useful than securing our own information.’ He smiled at the exasperated prefect. ‘Now. If you would be so good, Quadratus, perhaps you can reform your cavalry in the space we have left over to the right side of the slope. But signals only. No horns or whistles. Let’s keep the Treveri completely in the dark, eh?’
Quadratus shook his head in wonder and let out a relieved laugh.
‘It’ll be my pleasure, sir.’
* * * * *
Andesaros gave a satisfied smile.
‘You hear that, Dunohorix? Solemnis? The Roman commander retires to his fort in defeat. Our Suevi allies close on him and he finds himself in grave danger. Now he must seek the safety of his walls and the legions that are likely converging there.’
‘If they reach the fort, we will have to dig them out,’ Dunohorix grumbled. ‘It will be hard. Like opening a stubborn oyster with one hand. And all the glory and loot will fall to the Suevi. We will have nothing to show for throwing our support behind you. Ambiorix continues to steer us wrong.’
‘Not if we take them now,’ Andesaros said calmly.
‘What?’ Solemnis looked more nervous than ever.
‘The weather is good. It has been dry for some time so the ground is good. We have hours ‘til dark. The river banks will be solid, for all they are steep, and the river is lower than it has been for many months. The Romans are in disarray and on the retreat. My spies tell me that their morale is poor and their belief in their commander is waning. We will fall upon their retreating numbers. Even if they manage to reach the safety of their walls, they will have lost half their number by then, including…’ he smiled and stressed the last part as he scoured the eyes of his fellow chieftains, ‘their support wagons and supplies, which are always at the rear, slower than the rest.’
‘We could crush them,’ Dunohorix smiled grimly.
‘We can. Rouse your men. Promise them Roman blood and Roman treasure once more. Then join us. We charge at once. We must move fast to catch them while they are far from safety.’
He watched the two chieftains run back to their men. Revenge was in his grasp. His uncle’s ignominious death would be paid back ten thousand-fold. And the Treveri, over whom he still had only the most tenuous grasp, could be made to accept him as their true and only king, forged in battle against Rome.
Today was a fine day for the kin of Indutiomarus and the nation of the Treveri.
* * * * *
Ianuarius hauled on the wheel, turning it despite the massive resistance it put up. His arms had grown muscular in the two years he had served with the Ninth, and there was little weight he could not manage when required. With a grunt, he gave another half-turn and his fellow artillerist snicked the lock into place.
‘Which one?’
The young fellow, more of an assistant than a companion engineer, sounded enthusiastic as he peered between the branches.
With a roar, the Treveri force had seethed across the river mere moments earlier. Ianuarius’ ballista had been the last to be settled into position, and he had worried that he wouldn’t have time to set it up before the volleys began. It had been a near thing.
‘No one if you don’t put the bloody bolt in the groove!’
The young recruit flushed in embarrassment and dropped the heavy iron projectile into the slot, wedging it up against the mechanism.
‘So which one?’
‘Always make the first shot count, Marcius. It’s the only shot you’ll get where you have the luxury of aiming and the opportunity to be careful. Subsequent shots can just be ploughed into the bulk of the men, but the first one should always be a good one. First choice will always be an officer for preference. If one doesn’t present itself, then a good warrior. You can always identify them by the quality of their armour. Look for a lot of bronze or iron and some sort of decorative helmet crest. Horsemen are easiest, of course, but sometimes a great warrior on foot is more important than an ordinary horseman. So be choosy. At first.’