“As you all know, the king of Numidia is now within one or at most two days’ march away and there has been much talk about the composition of the Numidian forces. Rather than keep you in suspense, I will tell you what our scouts have reported. Juba marches to Scipio with ten Legions, 100,000 light infantry, 30,000 cavalry, and 300 elephants. There, now you know what we're facing, so that should put an end to all the questions. You can believe me because I know what I'm talking about, and now that I have told you, if I hear any more talk about it, I'm going to put you on a boat and send you out to sea to fend for yourselves.”
With that, he turned to stride back to headquarters, leaving the men standing shamefaced, but not a little worried.
“Do you think he’s telling the truth?” Scribonius whispered to me as we slogged back to our area.
I told him I did not know, though I doubted it, even if I could not give a good reason why I felt that way. If Caesar’s only goal was to shut the men up, he was successful, though his declaration did nothing to improve morale. Fortunately, the rain finally ceased about the middle of the next day so we went back to work extending the ditch, the finished portion now a moat from all the rains. There were a total of six hilltops that were part of the ridgeline and we had fortified all but one, the southernmost point. Meanwhile Labienus, who saw what we were about and understood its importance, had fortified it himself. To support this redoubt, he left Scipio’s camp to build his own to the south of the end of the ridge, perhaps two miles from it. Making matters more difficult was the terrain itself, this last hill being separated from the chain by a steep ravine, the floor of which was covered with a stand of olive trees. In order to secure our position, that last hill had to be taken from the enemy, so Caesar sent the cavalry down into the ravine through the olive grove. Labienus had anticipated this move, actually setting an ambush, but his men panicked at the sight of Caesar’s Germans and Gauls, so instead of attacking as a unit, they burst from their hiding spot further up the ravine in small groups, intent only on escape, and as a result were cut down. The rest of the Pompeians, seeing their comrades being slaughtered, turned to run up the hill with our cavalry in pursuit, not even stopping to make a stand at the top. It was in this manner we took the hill, which Caesar immediately ordered to be fortified in the same manner as the others. Now that the ridgeline was secure, we could begin the advance on the town, which meant more digging for the men. Caesar divided the army into two groups, one group digging while the other group stood in formation out a short distance in the valley in the event that Scipio wanted to stop us from what we were doing. This was when I began to suspect that Caesar still harbored a grudge against the 10th because we found ourselves digging again instead of standing guard, and it had happened too many times now to be a coincidence. This fact was not lost on the men either, and their muttered complaints were hard to stop because their officers heartily agreed with them. I suppose that it was harder on the men of the 10th because for so long we had been Caesar’s favorite, so our fall from grace was more spectacular. Of course, none of the rest of the army held any sympathy for us, particularly the veterans of the 13th and 14th, who had their collective faces rubbed in our glory for longer than any of the rest.
Even Cyclops, a relative newcomer to the 14th spared me no comfort when we visited each other. “What do you expect? From what I’ve been told, your boys have walked around for years thinking that their cac doesn’t stink like the rest of ours.”
“For a long time it didn’t,” I retorted, though I knew how weak it sounded as I said it.
Cyclops just laughed. “Well, it certainly does now, and you can’t blame the others for taking a little pleasure in it.”
I stopped arguing about it, thanked Cyclops for the wine, then went back to our area.
~ ~ ~ ~
At about the same time that we took the final hill, Juba and his army finally arrived on the scene. While his army was not as large as Caesar had told us, it was still big. The number of elephants was of the most interest to the men, both for the obvious reason and because there had been considerable wagering on the number, so when the final tally was made whoever had picked 30 found themselves rich men. Judging from the sounds of despair when the number was announced, not many men did. To advance on the town, Caesar ordered two parallel trenches running from the base of the ridge towards Uzita, spaced widely enough apart so that the army could array itself between them. This protected our flanks while providing cover to move from the forts on the ridge to a forward camp that we would construct as soon as the trenches were completed. It was from the forward camp that we would besiege the town and be able to do so in relative protection.
At the end of the first day, a force of Numidians from Juba’s camp came boiling out to fall on our cavalry, acting as rearguard for the rest of the watching Cohorts as they retreated to our camp on the other side of the ridge. However, our Gauls and Germans, after recoiling in surprise from the initial attack, turned about to rout the Numidians with heavy loss to the enemy. The next day the work on the entrenchments was finished, then without any delay we began working on the camp, situated just out of range of the enemy archers. Fortunately, the Pompeians either had not thought to bring or did not have any heavy artillery with which to defend Uzita, and now it was too late for them to get any inside the walls. Again, the men of the 10th were chosen for the work of building the camp, and I seriously thought of going to Caesar to ask him to relent, but almost immediately dismissed the idea. He had put me in this position because he trusted in my ability to lead the men in the manner in which Caesar thought was proper, so for me to go to him now would mean that I was unable to do so. Instead, I instructed the Centurions to crack down, literally, on those complaining the loudest and there were a few viti broken in the construction of that camp. The front facing Uzita was more heavily fortified than was our normal practice, with the turf wall and parapet made wider so that scorpions and ballistae would fit. This camp was our new home, though we marched back to the old one to pick up our meager possessions, returning to the forward camp after dark.
While we were working, Caesar was busy as well, but on the seas, as trouble had struck the fleet on its way back to pick up the remaining men of the army. One of the Pompeians, Varus was his name, attacked our vessels as they approached Leptis, scattering them and burning some of the transports, which fortunately were only carrying food, though it was badly needed. Caesar was given word of the trouble while he was in the main camp by the sea. Galloping off to Leptis, six miles away, he boarded his flagship and with a scratch force sailed out to confront Varus. Pursuing him to Hadrumentum, Caesar went into the harbor itself, recapturing a ship taken by Varus while setting fire to a number of the enemy’s own transports before sailing back. The rest of the fleet arrived safely, containing the rest of the 10th, along with the 9th, so there was much rejoicing in the camp as comrades were reunited. Unfortunately, the happiness was destined to be short-lived, at least for the 10th.
~ ~ ~ ~
Now that the 10th was back together, Caesar took the opportunity to inflict the punishment he had been forced to defer back at the Campus Martius, calling a formation in the main camp the day after the reinforcements arrived. He had not informed me what he was up to, but I suspected that it had something to do with the mutiny. So did the men, who were subdued and uneasy as we marched the short distance over the hill to the main camp. The fact that Caesar was having us assemble in the main camp, away from the eyes of the enemy, was a hint that he did not want them to witness what was to happen. Coming with the rest of the 10th were the two Tribunes, Avienus and Fonteius, and they were two haughty young bastards, barely deigning to speak to me, a lowly Centurion, at least one who was not one of their toadies, in the limited number of watches I was in contact with them. There were a few of those, the kind that always somehow make their way into the Centurionate, usually because of pressure from their friends higher up on men like me. Sometimes the pressure is in the form of a threatened exposure of a secret that would prove damaging, or sometimes it is in the form of outright bribery. So far, I had been lucky in that I had not been forced to face such a trial. I knew that it would be coming if I lived long enough, but at least it would not be coming from these two, because as soon as we were assembled and we had gone through the formalities that are a ritual of the army, Caesar wasted no time, calling both of them to the front of the formation. Even through their natural arrogance, their unease and worry was plain to see, and for this, they had good cause.