Caesar’s eyelid flickered alarmingly. Tetricus, standing behind Fronto, could see the warning signs in the general’s demeanour, though Fronto apparently either couldn’t tell or didn’t care. Either way, this had to stop. Tetricus stepped forward to intervene, but the two arguing commanders ignored him.
“Fronto, I put up with your astounding insolence because you really are one of the best legionary commanders Rome has to offer, but I’m rapidly reaching breaking point with you. There will come a time when you are more trouble than you’re worth.” He snarled. “Pray it’s not today!”
“You…” Fronto drew a deep breath, ready to launch into a tirade. Tetricus reached out and grasped his shoulder, hauling him to the side and defusing the building stress in the man by slapping him so hard on the back he was momentarily winded.
“Caesar,” the young tribune said calmly. “I believe we can put together very adequate defences in a few hours. I propose a compromise. Fronto may well be correct in his estimate that the Belgae will only get stronger, but I also see the wisdom in being as prepared as possible.”
He glanced sideways at Fronto, who was staring angrily at him.
“All we need is something we can fall back into if we run into serious trouble. Instead of fully enclosing stockades and gates, towers and so on, which would take more than a day, I propose this:”
He leaned on the table where Fronto had previously been and drew an imaginary map of the terrain with his finger.
“We’re sort of on a loop in the river here. In front of us is a nice flat area where we can marshal the troops. All we need is one good defence across it… say a nice deep and wide trench with just two or three causeways crossing it. Might even put some lilia in place.”
Caesar shook his head.
“That’s not enough. If the Belgae come in force, they’ll just swarm over it. I will not allow my army to be destroyed in detail after all I’ve achieved.”
Tetricus shrugged.
“Once the ditch is there, and I think we can have a nice deep ditch that crosses the flat ground from riverbank to riverbank in about five hours, we can look at raising a palisade perhaps. More than that, if we install a small fort at each end of the ditch, we can have a nice crossfire of missiles in the middle.”
Balbus stepped forward from the shadows around the edge of the tent.
“He’s right, general. If we put our artillery in emplacements at either end there won’t be an inch of flat land that’s out of range of a shot. Once that’s done, we can look at the possibility of marching on the Belgae, but we know we’ll have a good safe line to fall back to.”
Caesar rubbed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his impressive nose.
“Alright. I will concede to a reduction in the planned defences, but I have no intention in engaging in combat until we are clear that the advantage is ours and there is no viable alternative.”
He turned to Tetricus.
“You seem to be full of ideas, tribune. Gather your engineers and get to work.”
As Tetricus saluted and made for the exit, the general regarded his legates.
“I want every spare man working on this to get the defences as tight as possible and as fast as possible. While that’s happening, have your artillery from each legion taken to the left and right of the proposed site, so that they’re ready to move into place as soon as the platforms are ready.”
He gestured at the door and the officers saluted, nodded and filed out.
“And the cavalry, Caesar?”
The general looked up to see Varus hovering in the doorway.
“Form your men on the plain in front of the works. The entire infantry is going to be occupied with the construction, so the cavalry are the main defence against any sudden assault.”
Varus nodded professionally, though Fronto noted the brief flash of disapproval on the man’s face.
The general turned to the only figure remaining in his headquarters tent.
“And you? Just get out of my sight!”
Fronto saluted half-heartedly and muttered under his breath “gladly!”
As he allowed the tent flap to drop back into position, he breathed deeply of the air outside the headquarters and then strode across the grass to where Labienus and three other members of the senior staff stood in deep conversation.
Fronto wandered up and stood next to Labienus.
“Maybe we should just go attack them anyway.”
Labienus raised his eyes to the sky.
“Fronto, your mouth is going to open too wide and swallow the rest of your head one day. I swear it must already have swallowed your brain. Crassus can get away with talking to Caesar like that, because he’s richer and his daddy is so important.”
He gestured up and down at Fronto.
“But you? Your command is all you really have. Don’t mess it up.”
There was a chorus of nods from the others and Labienus laughed weakly.
“I, for one, don’t relish the thought of fighting the rest of this campaign without your help.”
Fronto kicked at the turf.
“We need to persuade Caesar to attack; we can’t wait until every barbarian north of the Alps is gathered together against us. He’s too worried about how this all looks at home and not worried enough about what might happen right here.”
Labienus shrugged.
“Problem is, even if we could persuade him to attack, the ground around here is just not good for a battle. I couldn’t even begin to decide how to go about it.”
Fronto nodded.
“I know. Can’t just take an assault to them because of the marsh. Not enough room either side of the marsh to take seven legions without stringing them all out and making it simple for the Belgae. Can’t lure them onto the plain in front of the fort, cos they’ll not come. They’re just waiting and growing in numbers. The only option would be to actually decamp and move to see if we can find somewhere that’s less defensive.”
He frowned.
“Why did Caesar choose somewhere like this? There was never any hope of conducting a proper battle here. It’s a place just made for defence.”
Labienus shrugged.
“Maybe Caesar never intended to fight here?”
Fronto slapped his head in irritation.
“That’s it. Should have realised the old bastard had something up his sleeve.”
He realised the others were looking at him in expectation.
“He’s waiting for something. He’s not bothered about the growing strength of the Belgae. Only an idiot would wait while they got stronger… unless he’s waiting for something more important, and whatever it is must be important enough that he thinks it’ll make this battle either easy or unnecessary.”
With a smiled, he patted Labienus on the shoulder.
“I’m going to find out what it is.”
The senior staff officer grasped Fronto by the shoulder.
“Be careful and deferential. If you go blundering in there with accusations and demands you’re going to find yourself shipped off back to Rome by the end of the day.”
Fronto smiled.
“I wouldn’t go. You all need me too much.”
Labienus raised his eyes skywards again as the legate turned and strode back towards Caesar’s tent. Without knocking or calling out, he lifted the flap and entered. The general was still sitting behind his desk, pinching the bridge of his nose as though suffering from a powerful headache. Caesar looked up at the sudden intrusion.
“What is the name of Venus do you think you’re doing, Fronto?”
The legate smiled what he hoped was a disarming smile, actually the one his sister always said made him look constipated.
“Alright, Caesar. I’ve worked it out. I know you’re waiting for something, but we really need to know what. Your officers are quite capable of planning actions both offensive and defensive, but if we don’t know what’s going on, we can’t plan for anything.”