Indeed, in the two weeks that followed the end of that rebellion, Caesar and his army had moved into the Atrebates' land, driven by the seeking of revenge on the traitor Commius, and then on into the territory of the Eburones who had so troubled Rome over the past few years. Both tribes had been cowed and feeble, yet both had been stripped of all remaining assets by the general.
Varus and Brutus had talked long about that in the privacy of his tent.
And now the army was back at the south-western edge of Belgae lands.
The general finished scratching some list on a sheet of vellum and straightened, performing a quick head-count with his piercing gaze. Seemingly happy with the result, he rubbed his temple for a moment and then cleared his throat.
'The time has come to separate the army once more,' the general said. 'The north is, in my opinion – and in that of those others I have consulted – settled. There is almost no chance of a future rising here. The northern Gallic tribes are depopulated and impoverished and in no condition to cause trouble, and now the Belgae are in the same position. Indeed, there are few areas of the land that can still raise a warband, let alone an army, and so the legions can now be reassigned appropriately.'
Peaceful postings? Varus frowned. That was not the way of Rome. Legions were raised for wars and disbanded at their conclusion. Some were occasionally kept on, paid for by their patron, when other areas were looking troublesome or when that patron expected to be assigned to a difficult province, or even if the senate decided they were of continued use, but most were disbanded when they were no longer needed. And certainly an army this size – a size rarely fielded in the history of Rome – would not be kept mobilized, considering the fact that Caesar would soon be moving into his consular role and staying in Rome for a while.
'The Treveri are still something of a threat,' the general went on. 'Despite repeated campaigns against them over the years, we have generally granted clemency in the aftermath and the dolts ever take advantage of that to raise trouble again as soon as the opportunity occurs. It is time to drive the fight and the spirit from them for good, to put them in the same position as their fellow Gauls.'
So not all peace, then…
'Labienus, you are my most able vexillatory commander, your skills have been proved time and again. You, I charge with the final pacification of the Treveri. They border the Germanic tribes, who continue to threaten and stir up unrest with people like Commius, and you are also authorised, if information is forthcoming, to deal with that particular traitorous vermin. Take the Seventh legion,' a quick nod there to Plancus, the Seventh's legate, who sat close by, 'who are one of the most experienced and strongest of my legions both in spirit and on parchment. You will have to take a slightly circuitous route and pass by Agedincum, where you will also collect the First. They may only have been with this army for a short time, but they are a consular legion who cut their teeth years ago under Pompey. They will be returning to their former role at the end of the year but until then, with two veteran legions at your disposal, you should encounter no trouble against the Treveri.'
Varus peered at Labienus, sitting with his helmet on his lap, his hair so much greyer than he remembered it being when they had first met eight years ago. Labienus was nodding professionally.
'Divide all spoils, including slaves. One half will be sent via the Rhodanus valley to Massilia. The rest will be divided among the men as you deem fit. I shall eagerly await news of your success.'
Labienus nodded again and sat quietly.
'Fabius.'
The legate straightened at the sound of his name.
'My latest reports suggest that the other most troublesome area is in the west and the southwest.'
Fabius frowned. 'Beg your pardon, general, but isn't Caninius already there with the Fifth and the Fifteenth?'
Caesar nodded and steepled his fingers. 'He is, but the scale of that region is rather impressive. There are something in the region of fifteen tribes that occupy the lands between the Pyrene mountains and the Liger River and border the western sea. And many of those tribes were only peripherally involved in the rising last year, so they are more populous than others. Given that Caninius has only two legions, one being freshly-raised last year and still green in many ways, and the other being a legion often kept in reserve, it seems sensible to me to send extra men to make sure the region is stable.'
Fabius nodded his understanding.
'You will take the Eighth and Roscius' Ninth,' another nod to Roscius, 'two of my most veteran legions – and join with Caninius at his base of Noviodunum. By autumn I want to sleep soundly knowing that the west and the south are either happily working towards the goal of a Gallo-Roman future or suppressed enough that they neither would nor could consider rising against us. I am hopeful for a peaceful, positive solution, but with four legions and auxiliary support you will, of course, impose peace and stability at the end of a gladius if it is required.'
Another nod.
'Varus?'
The cavalry commander sat up a little and concentrated.
'You will take a wing of the cavalry and join Fabius in the west. The army will be moving quick and light, resupplying at the various stations on the way, and he may have need of fast-moving, roving cavalry support, particularly given the hilly terrain that I understand is the norm in the southwest.'
Varus nodded.
So that was it. More suppression of tribes. At least the southwest was new territory for Varus, and he would see different terrain and hear different tongues. It was odd that he had become so used to the north and east of Gaul over the years that even with no grasp of the native language and no concerted attempt to learn it, he had begun to recognise words and the roots of names. He could already remember a dozen of their gods and could identify many tribes from their symbols and colours. The Aquitani and their neighbours were – Crassus had once informed him – as far removed from the rest of the Gauls as a Sicilian was from a Roman. And Varus remembered once trying to follow the lyrics of a song sung by a Sicilian in a tavern and fathoming perhaps one word in three through the thick accent and strange idioms.
New lands.
'And Brutus?' Caesar continued.
So Brutus would not be coming, it seemed. The general had another task for him. Fabius and Caninius were good men, but Varus could hardly picture sitting up late at night with a lightly-watered wine and roaring with laughter at humorous reminiscences with either of them. Across the tent, the young officer looked up with interest.
'To you I assign the most important task.'
This phrase captured the attention of every man in the room, and the officers leaned slightly forward as one.
'The spoils from the last few weeks of campaigning are gathered at Durocorteron, where the Remi guard it carefully and have arranged for wagons, beasts and horse escort. You will collect that wagon train and escort it to Agedincum. There you will find that numerous other wagon columns have gathered under the protective gaze of the garrison. There are a few last slave chains with them, but most of the convoy will consist of wagons of spoils. Once the Durocorteron wagons are added to the mass, the entire column will move south via Bibracte and Vienna under your command. Every ship available will be waiting in Massilia harbour – I have already notified the authorities there of your approach. Bear in mind the unprecedented value of the column. It would make a fabulous prize for an enemy of ours and while I cannot see any tribe having the manpower or the guts to try for such a trophy, you must take every precaution.'