‘I know you,’ he said.
‘Eporedirix, Caesar,’ the man replied quietly. ‘Of the Aedui. Formerly your factor in Bibracte and erstwhile magistrate of Decetio.’
‘The Aedui,’ Caesar breathed a relieved breath. ‘It’s about time. Come in, then, man.’
The Gaul followed Caesar in and Fronto turned in his chair to look the man up and down. ‘You ran into some trouble, I assume?’
Caesar returned to his desk. ‘I trust you bring news of my supplies and reserves?’
‘I do, Caesar, though the news is not good.’
Fronto felt his heart sink.
‘Go on,’ Caesar said quietly.
‘Treacherous men among the Aedui rise up against you, Caesar. Litavicus and Convictolitanis among others. Even now, Litavicus takes seven thousand horsemen to the Arverni’s aid, along with your latest supply wagons now in his possession. The Aedui are breaking their bond with you Caesar, and even those of us who maintain our vows and trust to you and to Rome are at risk from this rising vocal minority. If they are not checked, they will turn the whole tribe against you.’
Caesar took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of his nose, wincing.
‘Where are these seven thousand men now?’
‘Less than thirty miles from here, on the road to Bibracte.’
Caesar turned a questioning look on Fronto.
‘If they can be stopped, then they should,’ the legate replied. ‘To prevent the extra manpower for the enemy, and also to recover the much-needed supplies.
The general nodded. ‘You and Fabius maintain the siege from the two camps. I’ll take the rest across the new bridge and intercept this rebel Aedui army. They need to be reminded of their vows.’
‘And their leaders?’ Eporedirix asked.
‘This Litavicus will pay for his treachery. Convictolitanis and the rest will have to wait for now. Be assured, though, that I will free your people from these traitors and return them to Rome’s side.’ He turned back to Fronto. ‘Can you hold for a day or two without us?’
‘Do I have a choice?’
Chapter 13
Twenty miles from Gergovia
‘There is to be no killing unless I specifically order it,’ Caesar said, his voice jarred by the gait of his horse. The four legions were perhaps an hour behind, making an impressive pace unencumbered as they were, but once the scouts had announced a sighting of the Aedui cavalry force, Caesar had ridden forth with his own horse which, bolstered beyond the pitiful regular cavalry units by huge swathes of native levies, would at least slightly outnumber the enemy.
Varus nodded his understanding and agreement, casting up a private prayer to Minerva — she who embodied both war and wisdom, that the German unit, who he had deliberately positioned towards the rear, not take it upon themselves to start killing random Gauls.
‘We’re at your command, Caesar.’
With a wave of his hand, the three wings of cavalry began to move, the standard bearers waving their burdens to direct the columns. The first wing, under the young but talented Volcatius Tullus, remained at the valley centre with the commanders and the praetorian guard, splitting into two distinct streams to skirt the large pool that had collected where the valleys met, and then seamlessly forming up again at the western side. The second wing under Silanus moved off along the southern-most of the pigeon-foot-shaped conjunction, riding hard to block off a potential path of retreat towards Bibracte. The final third wing under trusted Quadratus — a man who had proved himself time and again, rode off to the north to barricade the other viable route to Gergovia.
The main force slowed their pace fractionally to allow the other wings to move into position and then, at a signal from Varus, began to move up the valley side, along a wide trail that displayed the ruts caused by years of passing wagon traffic, where the scout who had spotted the enemy sat, just below the crest.
As the commanders and the van of the first wing of cavalry neared the crest, the scout fell in alongside, gesturing with an arm to show where the enemy now were. Without waiting further, Caesar rode over the crest and onto the hillside, Ingenuus, Varus and Volcatius immediately behind him and hundred upon hundred of horsemen in their wake.
The Aedui were an impressive sight. They looked more like an army than Varus had expected. Though he had ridden alongside native cavalry for years, they had been levies fighting with Rome. Those he had encountered who opposed them had almost always been disorganised — a gathering of individual horsemen rather than a unit. This force exhibited the signs of a well-trained army, not a warband.
The foremost Aedui reined in, the army coming to a halt behind them, perhaps confused by the sudden appearance of their enemy with apparently very few men. Then, as more and more cavalry poured over the crest and took positions behind and beside Caesar and his officers, the enemy began to look slightly less smug and certain. By the time someone among the Aedui had registered the approach of Silanus’ wing from their rear-left and of Quadratus to their rear-right, they knew they were hemmed in and it hit them that Caesar was anything but alone.
The general rode forth — closer than Varus approved of — and the senior cavalry officer joined him, as did Ingenuus and half a dozen praetorian riders. At a distance of perhaps thirty paces from the nobles at the head of the force, the general reined in and sat for a long moment, weighing them up.
‘Litavicus of the Aedui is hereby ordered, on the authority of Rome and its proconsul — namely myself — to step forth and answer a charge of treason and usurpation. Will you straighten your spine, betrayer, and answer for your actions, or must you cower cravenly among those you have misled?’
A murmur of angry resistance rose from the enemy mass, and a young nobleman rode out to the front of the force, his head high and proud.
* * * * *
Cavarinos watched, his heart in his mouth. It was almost impossible to believe. Once again, they had achieved their goal smoothly and with minimum fuss, albeit with unpleasant civilian bloodshed, and once again, Caesar had come, seemingly from nowhere, to swipe their victory out from under them. How in the name of all that was reasonable had the Romans learned of this so quickly?
And yet Litavicus still looked smug and proud.
Could he pull this off? He was a consummate actor, for sure, but for Caesar to be here already, the man had to have at least some idea of what had happened, and even the most unobservant enemy would wonder about the wagon train with no Roman personnel around it
The young Aedui noble cleared his throat.
‘Proconsul. It is most gratifying that you ride out personally to meet us, though entirely unnecessary, I can assure you. We are quite capable of finding our way to your camp and we are in no danger on the journey.’
The Roman general kept his face stony, and in the single moment that Cavarinos looked into the man’s eyes, he realised several things. Firstly that Litavicus was doomed and the Aedui here would not be joining the rebel army. Secondly, that the general was everything that was said of him and more. He was easily a match for Vercingetorix who, to this point, had been the most astute commander Cavarinos had ever met. And thirdly — most important of all — that whatever they did, there was almost no chance that the rebels would win this war and free the tribes from Roman control. Even if they crushed the legions utterly, this man would not give in. He would be back the next year with ten more legions. Or twenty. Or a hundred.
In that moment of realisation, even before Caesar had begun his reply, Cavarinos was edging his horse out to the edge of the crowd, where he had a good line of sight to the gully they had just passed and which led north, towards Decetio.