The noise as they passed through the gate and into the great capital of the Aedui was astonishing. It seemed as though the whole tribe lined the streets, standing in doorways and windows, cheering the man who had beaten Caesar. Cavarinos gave up attempting to converse and simply took in every detail of the oppidum he had only seen before from beneath a veil of subterfuge.
The place was probably the greatest oppidum and city of all the tribes. No, it did not have the impressive defences of Gergovia, or the protective swamps of Avaricon. No it did not have the trade of Cenabum or the sacred places of the Carnute cities. But it was all things at once. It was huge — sprawling over a massive mountain and with a double encirclement of ramparts towering over steep slopes. It was sacred, for here was the most powerful place in the land, where often councils of tribes had met and decided the destiny of their peoples. Here was fed by sacred springs that made the place difficult to besiege effectively, and at the same time mystical and powerful among the druids. And here was a thriving centre of industry and commerce. Here was a city that was still inimitably Aeduan, and yet had taken enough architecturally from the Romans who had patronised it for so long, that its buildings were strong, graceful and well-equipped.
And here was now the place where the future of the land and its tribes would be decided once again. Cavarinos had felt his conviction over this entire war shaken once or twice over the past few months, and had been close at times to throwing down his sword and riding off into the countryside to settle in peace somewhere. But seeing this gave him some hope that what they were doing was not only possible, but was in fact also worthwhile and justified.
He smiled easily as they rounded a curve to the right in the main street, rising still. Up to the right, between smaller rough houses, he could see an open space which he knew to be the nemeton of Bibracte’s druids and the field of assembly before it. Down to the left, he could see residential streets reaching right to the inner rampart.
The Aeduan noble who had been sent to escort the esteemed visitors into the city rattled off facts and figures, tales and anecdotes as they rode, gesturing to various places, and the rebel officers nodded as if they cared, trying to please their hosts.
Around another bend, this time to the left, and an open area on the lower slopes to the side of the road created a clearing around a pool formed by a spring that flowed from a carved spout in the hillside.
‘The sanctuary of the cold fountains,’ intoned their guide, throwing his arm out towards it. Cavarinos noted the place with more interest than the others, remembering how Litavicus had claimed his uncle to be the attendant here, and how the place had been intimately involved in the rise of Convictolitanis, who had finally delivered the Aedui to Vercingetorix.
His ears caught a discordant noise among the din and he concentrated, frowning. There it was again: a scream amid the cheers. His hand went to the shoulder of the king by his side, and the two men slowed their horses as the rest of the nobles and leaders with them paused in confusion.
‘What is it?’ Vercingetorix asked quietly.
‘Listen. Down there.’
Both men waited, though not for long before another scream rent the air. Though their guide was trying to urge them on, Vercingetorix waved him aside and the two Arverni stepped their horses down to the sanctuary clearing. Due to the slope of the hill and the spring’s source, something of a cliff some ten feet high had formed behind the pool, hiding from the road the scene that greeted them as they descended. By the time they reached the pool side, the two men could see clearly what was happening.
A man stripped to the waist raised a huge serrated sword and cast a prayer up to Taranis, and then took the blade to a figure tied to a T-shaped edifice before the cliff. The serrated edge sank deep into the man’s belly at the bottom of the rib-cage, and the half-naked man drew it back out agonisingly slowly, sawing up into the rib as he did so and bringing another unearthly scream, all the clearer up close and not lost amid the din. The crimson holes around the figure’s body told a tale of hours of torture. Moreover, the victim was not alone. A limp, ruined, bloody mess on a similar post next to him had been gone for a while, and two more waited, terrified, for his attention to turn to them. A man decked in noble clothes and gold- and bronzeware stood with his arms folded, watching.
‘What is this?’ demanded Cavarinos, jumping in ahead of his king. Behind them, the other chiefs and nobles of the army were joining them.
The man watching turned, and Cavarinos faintly recognised him. It took only a few heartbeats to click, and he frowned. ‘Viridomarus?’ One of the men who had given over the Aedui cavalry to Caesar! And yet here he was. Cavarinos turned to their guide, who had now descended with them.
‘What is this traitor doing here? He serves Caesar.’
‘Served Caesar,’ snapped the former traitor. ‘As did we all among the Aedui. But no more.’
Cavarinos frowned. He had to concede the point that during the Bibracte siege, the entire tribe still owed their oath to Rome. Besides, there was something more important preying on his mind right now.
‘What do you think you are doing?’
‘Killing hostages,’ shrugged Viridomarus casually.
‘What?’
‘The hostages Caesar had taken. The ones whose tribes have flocked to our banner have been sent back to their families. Those who hold to their oath with Rome are being executed as an extra incentive for their people to change their minds.’
‘That is barbaric and unacceptable,’ Cavarinos snapped. ‘How do you hope to attract faithful support with such cruelty?’
Behind him, Critognatos coughed. ‘Sounds perfectly reasonable to me. If they are not allies then they are enemies. Enemies deserve death. A Roman enemy might be killed with a sword blow in the field, but those of the tribes who support the enemy? Torture is their lot and I approve.’
Cavarinos turned to Vercingetorix. ‘This has to be stopped. Those men are the very people we fight for!’ His heart sank as he saw his king’s face.
‘No, Cavarinos. Your brother is correct. They have become the enemy. I might not have done things quite this way, but they are now the Aedui’s prisoners, and it is their choice how to proceed.’
‘We don’t serve the Aedui,’ Cavarinos growled. ‘They fight under our banner, not the other way round. It is in your power to stop this.’
‘Perhaps,’ the Arverni king conceded. ‘But it is not in my best interest to do so. Come. We have business above.’
Cavarinos stared at the rebel king’s back as the man wheeled his horse and climbed up to the road, his other men flocking close behind. Critognatos paused only long enough to throw a nasty look at him.
Is this what we’re fighting for? Cavarinos thought to himself as he followed on, a hollowness within him. His eyes burned into his brother’s back as they climbed.
* * * * *
‘You are the Arverni king,’ Viridomarus roared, rising to his feet amid the general din of the council chamber. ‘Just because your tribe feel the need to raise a king above themselves is no reason to foist the same despot upon all of us.’
Eporedirix reached up a restraining hand and tried to calm his friend as the chamber ebbed and flowed with admonitions and praises.
‘I do not wish to be king of the Aedui,’ Vercingetorix said quietly, and yet in a tone that cut through the noise. ‘I do not wish to rule your tribe. But in this critical moment in all our histories, it is critical that the tribes all work together as one nation. And with each tribe’s force here under independent command in the same manner as the Romans have their legions, we can only hope to make the most of that manoeuvrability and flexibility with one overall commander. I have prosecuted this war successfully thus far, despite shocks, setbacks…and treachery.’ He aimed this last at Viridomarus, whose face was livid purple. After all, the two recently-arrived Aedui may have struck an excellent blow at Noviodunum, but all who were at Gergovia could remember the Aedui cavalry arriving to serve Caesar because of this pair’s actions.