The northern and the eastern tribes had been smashed – there was no hope of a new rebellion being born there – but the south and east remained strong. They only had to be shown the way, shown that Rome could be beaten and driven out, and then they would rise. The burning of Narbo and the triumph of the once-defeated Arverni king would do that.
Of course, the presence of these two legions under the man Caninius had thrown a stick in the wheel spokes of the plan. But sticks could be removed. And Lucterius still had over a month until he had originally intended to move south anyway. Drapes had worried that the Romans would send for reinforcements, but Lucterius had prepared everything. The north was still rising with every man they could muster. They were little more than a gad fly biting the hide of Rome, but they were keeping Caesar and his other generals busy. It was simply bad luck that this Caninius had run to help the Lemovices while Drapes had been there. Otherwise the plan would be moving forward without Roman interference.
Still, he was confident that they would win. He had as many men as the Romans and as long as he could meet them on favourable terms, he would win the day. There could be no pitched battle in open land, for that was where Rome became ascendant. And attacking the Roman defences was foolish – they had learned that at Alesia.
So there was one way. An army was only as good as its supplies.
Uxellodunon had good stores of grain and a source of water. Half the plateau was given to the cultivation of vegetables and fruit and the husbandry of animals. Uxellodunon could hold out for as long as they wanted it to. And the men would never go hungry during all that time. They would eat well. But the Romans had chased them here without the usual wagon train, and that meant that they were reliant upon forage. They must be running very short now of the meagre supplies they had brought with them, and would be hunting animals and sending forage parties out to locate farms.
They would be unlucky. The war had taken its toll on the tribes and few farms had yielded a healthy harvest for two years now. Unless they found the supply dump at Serpent Ford, six or seven miles southwest of the oppidum, that was. It had originally been stored there with the intention of being brought inside the ramparts when the army arrived, but the Romans had been too close and so the supplies remained where they had been left.
If the Romans found it they would be well fed for long enough to ruin the plan. But two more weeks without adequate supplies and the Romans would be forced to quit the siege and move back north to where their own supplies were. Then the Cadurci would move on. Or, if he was one of the more belligerent of the Roman commanders, this Caninius would judge his position untenable and decide to launch a desperate attack. And if he did that, Lucterius would win easily and destroy two legions into the bargain.
It was all dependent upon his men remaining strong and well fed while the Romans starved and weakened.
When he had told Drapes about the cache of food, the man had strained at his leash, wanting to rush the enemy lines and either retrieve or burn the supplies to make sure the Romans did not get them. Lucterius had been calm and organised and had explained that he had a plan.
He would take five hundred men and retrieve the supplies. There could be no more than five hundred, lest the Romans notice them sneaking past and bring them to battle. Then he would lose. But five hundred men he could get through the Roman lines. Then they would bring the supplies back to the oppidum, not only weakening the chances of the enemy but strengthening their own.
Drapes had lost his temper and roared his distrust into Lucterius’ face. Not only had Lucterius led them into a siege and got them trapped by two legions all because of some faint timeline to which he was working, but now he proposed to sneak out of the oppidum and run, leaving Drapes to his fate.
Lucterius had put on his most patient voice and explained once more that he was simply going to fetch the supplies, but Drapes had the bit between his teeth and accused him repeatedly of trying to flee now that things had gone wrong. And the more Drapes spat and raged, the more the lesser chiefs had nodded and begun to look at Lucterius with distrust.
It was madness. Was he not the architect of this whole plan? Was he not behind the renewed dream of freeing the tribes from the Roman yoke? But in the face of bile and invective, all the idiots could see was that Lucterius planned to leave the oppidum. In the end, he had been forced to acquiesce and agree to Drapes joining him on the mission. They would take the five hundred men – two hundred of his loyal Cadurci and two hundred of Drapes’ Senones. And several of the more nervous, distrustful lesser chiefs would come with a dozen or so men each. It was utterly ridiculous. The bulk of the new rebel army remained well fed and rested, training in the oppidum under the command of one of the smallest and least important chiefs in this army. Meanwhile anyone with any influence was busy sneaking out of the place to retrieve stored grain.
All because of Drapes’ distrust.
Idiocy.
Carefully, he lifted his foot out of the brackish water and gestured to the tangled root that had almost tripped him so that the men following on behind would not fall foul of it.
This place, which in his childhood they had called the marsh of dead horses for some unknown reason, was the only place a breakout could be achieved. To the southwest of the oppidum, towards where the river plunged into a narrow valley, the two tributary streams that fed into that river met in a tangled swampy woodland. The ground was so soft and flat here that the streams flooded the woodland and created a troubling marsh. The Romans might have created a bulge in their cordon to enclose the whole thing, but that would have meant taking it right back towards the river, and the sense of order and neatness that seemed endemic of the Roman mind would not allow for that. Instead, the cordon went to one side of the marsh, where a sentry sat at the driest point he could find, and picked up again with a similar man on the far side.
The marsh was not wide. The pickets might not be able to see each other, but they were close enough to shout to one another, as the escaping warriors had confirmed when they were treated to a shouted ribald story about some Syracusan whore. Fortunately, the flow of the streams through the undergrowth mixed with the vast array of marshy wildlife created a constant murmur of watery movement, and the sound of five hundred men moving very slowly and carefully through the hidden ways between them remained unnoticed by the pickets. And, of course, the mist helped to dampen sound anyway.
Drapes had actually, when he’d heard about this place, suggested that the whole army move through it and escape. He genuinely believed they could get the army past the Roman cordon and be halfway to Narbo before Caninius knew they had gone. Which only went to show that Drapes was an idiot. Five hundred men through here was dangerous enough. Many thousands would stand no chance.
Indeed, he would have had no nerves crossing this place with his five hundred Cadurci, all of whom knew Uxellodunon and this marsh and could navigate it with their eyes closed. These various Senone and other allied idiots, though, were making so much noise it was amazing they hadn’t already drawn the attention of the sentries.