'Limonum?' Fabius frowned and glanced across to Varus. The name was familiar to him, but he couldn't quite place it.
'It's the chief oppidum of the Pictones, sir. They're a pretty civilised bunch, and Limonum's about a hundred miles or so south-west from here.'
'If they're so civilised,' Varus asked with interest, ‘why did Caninius have to take two legions there?'
'He's gone to help their prince, sir, a fellow called Duracius. He apparently voted against their part in Alesia last year and holds to his allegiance. He's holed up in Limonum under siege from the nastier elements of his own tribe and from the Andes from across the Liger River. Soon as he heard, Legate Caninius mobilized the legions. Said we had to look after our allies.'
'Very much so,' Fabius agreed. 'Good man. So he took the legions against these Andes, then. When was this?'
'About two weeks ago, sir. If I'm honest, I'd have normally expected them back a while ago now, sir. About a week ago we had word that the legate had camped close to the siege, but there were more of the bugge… the enemy were considerably more numerous than the legate had expected. I've been starting to get quite jumpy over the whole thing, but even with the best will in the world, I can't spare a man to ride for Limonum for news. We just have to sit tight and hope that the commander is alright.'
Varus looked across at Fabius. 'It's still early.'
The legate thought for a moment, then inclined his head. 'Agreed. Thank you for your briefing, Centurion. As I said, I shall be sure to bring your name to the attention of Caninius when I see him, which will be soon. I cannot imagine that he is in difficulties, or a messenger would have carried word of it. Still, all things being equal, given this news it would be remiss of us to delay in joining him. My legions are settling in to make camp, but we shall change that immediately. There are still three or four hours of good daylight, and we can be well on the way to Limonum by dark. Do you have a map of the region?'
Memor nodded and fished around in his documents for a moment before producing a scroll and passing it over. Varus took it, unrolled it for a moment until he located both Noviodunum and Limonum, and then showed it to Fabius, who nodded.
'Thank you, Memor. We will move immediately, and I promise you that I will send word once we have arrived at the place and every other day thereafter. I shall also leave you a few contubernia of my men to make up your numbers and ease your burden.'
The centurion looked greatly relieved and smiled as he stood. 'Thank you, sir.'
Varus reached out and clasped his hand. 'I shall also leave three of my riders. It might be useful for you to have men who can act as couriers and messengers.'
'Again, thank you, sir.'
Returning Memor's salute, the two men strode from the building and as they emerged into the pale light, Varus looked across at his fellow officer. 'Are you as confident about this as you sounded in there?'
Fabius looked a little uncertain, but he smiled. 'It's a rare occasion when a force that size gets itself in so much trouble it can't even send a messenger for help.'
Varus nodded, though his mind toyed with the memory of what had happened to Sabinus and Cotta and an entire legion up in Eburones lands a few years ago. Rare, yes, but not unknown.
'I think, regardless, we'd better move as fast as we can.'
Fabius hauled himself up into his saddle and gestured across to his guards to mount up. 'Agreed. To Limonum, then, at best speed we can manage.'
* * * * *
Varus reined in alongside Fabius once more. The scouts had been entirely accurate with their description. The land hereabouts was so uniformly flat and sporadically forested that it was difficult to find a vantage point with a view of their objective, but the scouts had found a low hill with an unobstructed view of Limonum and the armies.
The oppidum sat within a wide bend in the river, the far side protected by a ditch and a high rampart, the nearer river-wound side by little more than a ten foot wall of the usual Gallic style. Despite the defences being considerably meaner than some of those fortifications the Romans had encountered and overcome in their time in Gaul, it was still something of a difficult proposition. The far side was strong, and the weak side was protected by the river, reachable feasibly only by a native timber bridge.
The Andes and their allies had encamped in a mass at the near end of the bridge, facing the oppidum. Varus felt relieved to see, just as the scouts had described, Caninius’ two-legion force camped only a quarter of a mile from the enemy in a well-constructed turf and timber fort.
‘Why has he not engaged them?’ Fabius muttered from beside him.
‘Numbers, the centurion said. Superior enemy numbers.’
‘They look fairly evenly matched to me,’ the legate replied. ‘And that always means an advantage to Rome.’
Varus nodded. The two forces did indeed look more or less equal, but he squinted into the distance suspiciously. ‘Look there.’
‘What?’
‘Beyond the oppidum.’
Fabius followed his pointing finger and took a moment to see it. A second enemy force roughly the same size as the first was encamped along the treeline on the far side of Limonum, sealing off the settlement from the west, too. Odds of two to one, then, after all. Perhaps Caninius had been right to err towards caution. Caesar would not thank him for losing two legions at this stage in proceedings.
‘What to do, then? We could head around to the south in a wide arc, cross the river there and come up on the second enemy force, evening things out?’
Varus tapped his lip thoughtfully.
‘The enemy will have scouts out, expecting something. I doubt we would take them by surprise and, gathered at the treeline, we’d never get to meet them in open ground. You know how hampered we are by woodlands. If they retreat into there, my horse are useless and your men lose all the advantage of formation. We’d be better joining up with Caninius and outnumbering the nearer force. At least we could halve their numbers.’
‘Sir?’
Varus turned at the scout’s voice. There were few riders on this low hillock. Fabius’ legions were still a good ten miles away, crossing the flat land and heading for the siege, and the two officers had ridden out ahead two hours ago with the scouts and a small cavalry detachment to confirm the outriders’ findings. The scouts were now ranging around the locality, and two were trotting towards them now. Varus gestured to them and the riders slowed and pulled up, saluting.
‘Who are you?’ Varus frowned, not recognising the colours or insignia of one of riders as belonging to his own force, though the other scout was known to him.
‘Tonantius. Exploratores unit of the Fifteenth Legion, sir.’
Varus’ brow rose in surprise. One of Caninius’ scouts.
‘Well met, man. Tell me: why has your garrison back in Noviodunum heard nothing from your army if you are simply encamped here?’
It was a blunt question, but Varus had been dying to know since he’d encountered the poor understaffed centurion back at the base. The scout’s face took on a resigned, yet somehow angry, look.
‘Three times couriers have been sent, sir, but none have returned. We have assumed they did not reach the oppidum. After the third, the legate decided to stop wasting good men.’
‘Sensible,’ murmured Fabius. ‘What happened to them then?’
The man of the Fifteenth shrugged. ‘The enemy have many scouts like ours, and a far greater number of horse. Their men are all across the countryside and they know the terrain much better. Begging your pardon, sir, but our lot can’t even take a shit without the enemy knowing what it weighs half an hour later.’
Varus nodded. Rome placed a great emphasis on the heavy infantry tactics of the legions and often failed to recognise the advantages that proper cavalry could bestow. He frowned. So if the enemy knew everything that was going on…