“Did you know them? Are they from your ala?”
The prefect shook his head.
“None of ours are missing. Besides, how would we identify them even if they were mine? That’s not all though…”
Ingenuus pointed across the dell, behind the bodies. A fire pit of considerable size lay there, though the blaze had long since burned out and the residue was cold. As he gazed across at the pit, Fronto began to make out shapes in the ash. It took him a long moment to realise that they were horses.
“Minerva save us, they gutted and maimed the riders and then burned the horses? What kind of animals are these people? Is this some kind of German carnarium?”
Ingenuus’ face had taken on a particularly hard look.
“Germans, sir. And bastards. We’re going to make them pay, yes?”
Velius nodded.
“Oh yes. We’ll get them for this. But who are they if they’re not ours?”
Fronto tapped his temple with an index finger.
“Who do you think they are? Who could they be but the messengers Longinus and Caesar have been sending us? No wonder we’ve never heard anything. They must have kept them imprisoned until they were ready to move, then done this to them.”
Ingenuus swallowed again.
“I’ll have some of my lads come and clean the place up and perform the proper burials.”
Velius shook his head.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. Let the infantry handle it. These are cavalrymen and I think my boys are a bit more detached. Don’t want them getting stupid ideas of revenge.”
Fronto nodded.
“He’s right. I don’t think we want to let your men know just yet. Remember what happened with the Helvetii. We don’t want to get them so tightly wound that they’ll get themselves into trouble. I do want the three of us to search the place first, though. We’ll take back anything military or personal we can find before anyone clears up.”
The three began to move among the mess, scouring the ground for anything of value or importance. After a few minutes of searching, Velius shouted them over to the fire pit.
There, along with the remains of the animals and the charred effects of the troopers, was a pile of charred scrolls, the wax seals melted onto the carbonised paper. Velius was about to reach down and pick one up, when Ingenuus grasped his wrist.
“You can’t pick them up. They’ll just turn to dust in your fingers. Try to make out what you can where they are. We should be able to make something of them.”
The three moved around the pile of charred papers, squinting at the mess and trying to decipher words that were defined only as a darker patch on the charcoal grey.
“It says something here about the Suevi. Aren’t they a German tribe?”
Fronto nodded, grateful that he’d read up so carefully on the tribes in the command tent over the last few months.
“The Suevi are a sizeable tribe, but they’re not with Ariovistus.”
Velius shook his head pointing to a parchment roll.
“They will be soon. They’re crossing the Rhine. I think Caesar’s set off with the army to meet them. That’s what this looks like to me.”
Ingenuus nodded.
“Here’s the orders for you, sir, telling you to get the hell out of there and meet the army somewhere. I can’t tell where. The rest of it’s too far gone. What do you want to do, sir?”
Fronto frowned.
“If the Suevi are coming to join the party, Caesar’ll have his hands full. Ingenuus, you’ve scouted this area a lot. What’s that way?”
He gestured in the direction that Ariovistus’ army had taken.
The cavalry prefect thought for long moments.
“Nothing immediate. Certainly nothing for at least ten miles. Although there is a big town out that way, quite a long way. I think it’s the Sequani’s capital.”
Fronto slapped his forehead.
“Vesontio!”
He turned and grasped Ingenuus’ shoulder plate.
“Vesontio’s huge and very easily defended and it’s probably better supplied than Bibracte. If Ariovistus takes Vesontio and the Suevi join him, it’ll take every man Rome can supply to remove him. Shit! Caesar’s marching the wrong way. He’ll beat the Suevi, but by then Ariovistus will be in the best position to be found in eastern Gaul! We’ve got to …”
A neighing noise stopped him in mid sentence. Two German warriors on horseback had just crested the ridge. They surveyed the scene for a moment, then spotted the Romans and wheeled their mounts. Fronto shouted at the others.
“They can’t get away. Velius, get back to the cohort and send scouts off to Caesar with this news. Prefect, we’re on!”
As Velius galloped off in the direction of the unit, Ingenuus jumped onto his horse in a swift move, quickly overtaking Fronto, who was less practiced in the saddle. The two raced up the hill after the Germans. It struck Fronto as they rode, that this might be a bad idea. What if they followed to the two straight into the waiting arms of a thousand German cavalry?
Cresting the hill, they could see the two ahead of them. Willing his horse on, Fronto tried to keep up with the prefect. Slowly they began to gain ground on the Germans when suddenly the one on the left veered away from his companion. Fronto swore and then shouted to Ingenuus.
“Keep on the other. I’ll take this one.”
Leaning in the saddle, Fronto drove his mount as hard as he could. Again, slowly he began to gain distance. The German kept turning to look over his shoulder at his pursuer and, failing to notice an incline while he was doing so, almost became unhorsed. His steed bucked and whinnied as it tried to keep steady on the treacherous slope and Fronto knew that he had his man now.
Coaxing the horse on, he ploughed down the slope at a pace the animal could handle, mere yards behind his quarry. Realising that there was no way he could reach the man with his short infantry blade, he pulled alongside the man as best he could, judged the distance and, pulling up his knees so that his feet rested on the saddle, hurled himself at the surprised German.
The two tumbled to the ground, Fronto landing on top of the man. Hurriedly he drew his blade, ready to cut the German before he could properly fight back but noticed as he raised the sword the unpleasant angle at which the man’s head lay and the trickle of dark blood running from the corner of his mouth.
He stood and, with only a little work, retrieved both horses. Heaving the body of the German onto one, he tied its reins to his own saddle horn and began to ride back up the slope.
After around a quarter of a mile he saw Ingenuus, leading a spare horse.
“What happened to him?”
“He went in the river sir. A few sharp rocks and a sword blow. He washed far downstream before I could even dismount. I think we can count him as gone sir.
Fronto smiled without a trace of humour.
“Good. Let’s get back to the men and get on the trail of Ariovistus. We should meet up with Caesar at Vesontio or at least this side of it if the general gets our message and detours. So long as we get there before the Germans.”
“And if we don’t?”
“If we don’t, we’re walking into one hell of a problem.”
Chapter 15
(Forest clearing twenty miles from Ariovistus’ fortress)
“ Turma: A small detachment of a cavalry ala consisting of 32 men led by a decurion.”
“ Ludus: 1) a game, 2) a Gladiatorial School.”
“German scouts!”
The cavalryman rode out of the late afternoon sunlight and into the column at high speed. Fronto and Velius came running from the vanguard and met Ingenuus as he arrived on the scene. The cavalry trooper had slid from his horse and stood to a close approximation of attention. Fronto thought he looked a little unsteady until the man turned slightly and he saw the shaft of a rough arrow protruding from his back.