Labienus’ riders had reached them only two days ago, and the news that the inventive commander had yet again trounced the Treveri, invested a trustworthy figure as their leader and taken their sworn oaths as well as the heads of the lead conspirators and over a thousand slaves had lifted the mood of every officer in the column. Except Caesar. All the general had been able to say about the matter was that Labienus should have dug in and waited for the rest of the army. Priscus had privately formed the opinion that jealousy over Labienus’ success was suppurating in Caesar’s head, and doing no good there.
Labienus was on his way north, apparently, and not far away. The two armies would meet, probably at the confluence of the rivers they were both following and after that, Caesar would turn his attentions to the Eburones and the hunt for Ambiorix would begin in earnest. But if the general set his eyes on the Suevi for a while, it might buy Fronto the time he needed to bring Ambiorix to justice.
To some extent the whole purpose of Fronto’s hunt had become moot now. An attempt to halt the destruction of the Belgae was largely pointless, with the Nervii all-but gone, the Menapii thoroughly beaten down and their lands ravaged, the Treveri smashed and installed under a pro-Roman king, and only the Eburones and the small tribes like the Segni and the Condrusi left untouched.
And yet Fronto had continued, doggedly. The wax tablet Biorix had borne, apparently unread, though Priscus could not confirm that in the legionary’s inscrutable eyes, had briefly and succinctly informed him that, although he had heard of Caesar’s deprivations, his friend was not about to give in. He was moments away from Ambiorix and, regardless of any agenda of Caesar’s, Fronto believed him to have a connection to, or knowledge of, the Arverni and this ‘Esus’ character, and he would capture and interrogate him if it cost every last man.
Yes, a good thing: chasing down the Suevi and buying Fronto the time. Priscus would give his right arm to know the identity of Esus. Well, Antonius’ right arm, anyway.
‘The Ubii in this area are as loyal as any tribe can be,’ Priscus noted. ‘We’ve never had cause to face them yet. We can cross the river in their boats at leisure and then move against the Suevi.’
Caesar shook his head. ‘We bridged this river years ago and beat back the tribes beyond, showing them how easily we could get to them should we have the need, just as we did to the Menapii with our causeways. But it seems the Suevi have forgotten this. They have retreated into their forest and think themselves safe. I will have another bridge here, and this one will stay, this time.’
‘Is that a good idea?’ Antonius frowned.
‘The Ubii here will not attack us as we build it,’ Caesar replied. ‘Last time, such a venture was considered impractical and too difficult, and the enemy on the far bank did their best to prevent us completing it. This time we have a peaceful locale and prior experience. I expect construction to be speedy and trouble-free.’
‘And what of Ambiorix?’ asked Antonius, drawing his infernal wine flask from his cloak.
Priscus could have strangled the man at that moment.
Caesar simply tapped his lip in thought. ‘Yes, an extra delay could be trouble.’
‘But the Suevi?’ nudged Priscus, glaring at Antonius, who seemed entirely oblivious.
Again, Caesar turned. ‘Yes. We will concentrate the bulk of our forces on the bridge and the Suevi beyond, while Labienus makes his way here — along the ‘victory clivus’,’ he added with a trace of bitterness, ‘and joins us. But we can spare most of the cavalry. They are of little use in the German forests, after all.’
His gaze played across the heads of the staff and legates gathered by the river and fell upon a small, eagle-nosed man with unruly hair growing in a circle around a bald pate, like a hill rising from a forest. ‘Basilus?’
The officer, a cavalry prefect with little time in Gaul, turned in surprise. ‘General?’
‘I want Varus and Antonius with me across the river. You have command of the cavalry, barring the few units I will keep in support here. Take them into the Eburone lands and start ravaging. Without infantry support you will be able to do little to oppida, towns and fortresses, so steer clear of them, and avoid pitched battles with only horse at your command. But you will be able to start the process for me. Burn their crops, kill their livestock, and destroy farms and villages as you find them.’
Basilus saluted, looking slightly stunned at his sudden acquisition of an important command, but Caesar had already returned his attention to the others and the river.
‘The Suevi, and then, once Basilus has the Eburones starving and at the peak of despair, we move on Ambiorix.’
Priscus shivered at the thought of what such deprivations might mean for the small party of Romans busily hunting the man deep in Eburone lands.
* * * * *
Lucius Minucius Basilus peered through the foliage at the point where the track passed over the crest of the hill and descended into the wide, shallow valley. Behind him, the cavalry of Caesar’s army still poured into position, making their way between the tall, narrow trees, winding across the cold, fast stream filled with large, jagged rocks and forming up within the forest as best the tightly-packed trees allowed.
‘What do you think, sir?’ the prefect beside him asked, smoothing the ruffled mane of his mare.
Basilus frowned at the settlement below. The fields were beginning to glow with healthy corn, marking the clear approach of summer at last, and farmers and peasants moved about the crops tending them and weeding. In the centre of the valley, the settlement itself sat peaceful and quiet.
‘I’m in two minds, Catilo.’ He sighed and pursed his lips. Caesar had been quite specific. They were to avoid anything that might lead to a siege or a pitched battle. Small farms and villages were fair game to his depredations, but towns and fortresses were out of the question. Clearly this was a town, but it was surrounded by extremely weak defences, and the cavalry would have little difficulty overrunning the place. The defenders on the low ramparts were few and far between and the populace worked the fields, the gates of the place standing wide open. ‘I think we will take the place with precious few casualties, and this could be one of the greatest symbolic victories of the campaign, causing consternation and fear among the Eburones as word spreads. How fast could you get to those gates?’
Catilo grinned. ‘If we keep to the trees and move stealthily, we can get damn close before we move out into open ground. We can be on them before they have time to shit themselves, sir.’
‘Right. We’ll take the place, then. Take two alae down to the closest treeline and as soon as you’re in position, head for the nearest gate. I don’t care what you have to do, I want you to be sure you take that gate and hold it until the rest of us get there.’
Catilo nodded, and Basilus turned to the other prefect approaching at the far side.
‘Portius? Catilo’s going to take and hold the gate. I’m going to take half the cavalry straight for the settlement as soon as he’s there. The moment we break cover for the town, you take the other half and ravage the fields. Kill everyone you find and chase any survivors off into the woods. Once you’ve done that we’ll fire the crops.’
Portius nodded and turned to give the orders to the decurions as Basilus once more regarded the town below.
‘You poor unsuspecting barbarians. I’m about to turn your world upside down and then set fire to it.’
* * * * *
‘What do you mean, he’s here?’ Fronto snapped angrily.
Ullio, standing in the doorway and blocking the morning sunlight, shrugged. ‘He arrived last night, late at night.’
‘Well where is he then?’
‘He was escorted to one of the houses outside the walls. He has a large number of armed men with him. Segni as well as Eburones, so the king thought it prudent to keep him outside until morning.’