Viridomarus’ smile broadened. In a subtle move, the Arverni king had brought the Aedui to his side, and Cavarinos found himself heaving a sigh of relief as he rewrapped and pocketed the curse tablet. Finally, Caesar’s time in Gaul could be measured in weeks rather than years. The end was coming.
And yet, somewhere deep inside, he found himself picturing the Roman — Fronto — agreeing to a peaceful, merciful end to what could have been a bloodthirsty siege at Vellaunoduno, and watching his enemy walk away with their weapons and pride intact. And as that image soothed, so another mental picture burned: the Aeduan noble torturing and murdering their own peoples in a sacred place just for wavering in their voracity.
Still, when Caesar was beaten, which seemed likely any time now, such matters could be dealt with. Gaul, if it were to be a nation, must be created upon a foundation of respect and honour.
Respect, and honour.
Chapter 16
Near the Aeduan oppidum of Borvo
‘Now that is a welcome sight,’ Antonius sighed, and Fronto could not help but agree as the two men, along with several of the other officers, sat atop the slope and watched Labienus and his four legions stomping along the shallow valley towards them, passing below the deserted settlement. Every Aeduan town they had come across on their journey north towards Agedincum had been empty and stripped of food and goods, forcing them ever further to the east in search of food. The roving enemy horse bands had done their best to continue the ‘scorched earth’ tactics of the rebel king, but they had been too few to do a thorough job, and the Roman army had made it this far north without too much trouble, curving out east to find forage. A small party of cavalry had been sent ahead to Agedincum the moment they had crossed the river with orders to bring Labienus south and join up with the main force, the horsemen commanded to move fast but carefully, not attracting the attention of the roving enemy bands. They had been gone long enough to cause concern, but the arrival this morning of the Labienus’ forces put such doubts to rest. The native scouts among the messengers had once again proved their worth, managing to reunite the forces, despite the necessary change in course of Caesar’s army.
Now, despite the new Fifth and Sixth being in the south defending Narbonensis, the army once again numbered ten legions plus the large auxiliary contingent. There had been many murmurs among the officers concerning the trustworthiness of the native levies, given the array of tribes now turned against them. But Caesar had split the cavalry supplied by the now wavering or opposed tribes in amongst those from the peoples still allied and the regulars, and offered them high financial incentives to maintain their allegiance. Whether or not they did so when required remained to be seen, but with so few regular horse, the Roman general simply had to rely on the native levies.
‘What’s our estimated number now,’ Fronto asked quietly.
‘Assuming Labienus has suffered no disasters,’ Plancus replied, running his finger down the wax tablet list, ‘legionary contingent of between forty and forty-five thousand. Auxiliary infantry, archers, slingers and the like of around five thousand. Regular cavalry numbering perhaps two thousand. And native levies are difficult to assess, but estimated at around thirty thousand.’
‘Approximately eighty thousand men all in, then,’ Fronto nodded. ‘It’s a hell of an army. Will it be enough?’
The officers remained silent for a moment, each considering this question in the privacy of his own nervous mind. Scouts and local interrogations had confirmed throughout the three day march from Noviodunum that Vercingetorix and his army were on the move behind them. As might be expected from a people who were such natural horsemen, the enemy cavalry had moved ahead of their infantry and had apparently been disturbingly close on the heels of the Roman force, harrying a few lagging foragers as they went. But Caesar had pressed on as speedily as he could, knowing that the force at their heel outnumbered them and that only meeting up with Labienus and his legions could prevent disaster.
Indeed, for the past two days, the army had changed its marching order from the standard to a most unusual, defensive one. The baggage train had moved into the heart of the column, the legions arrayed in close order to either side, ready to protect, while the horse had been split into the three wings, roving around the column and changing position every few hours, ready for anything untoward, though with one always at the rear on watch. It was as prepared as they could hope to be.
‘What now? Do we turn to meet them with our full army?’
The general looked around at the army assembling from two directions. ‘No. They are still too many. We move on for Agedincum and let them come to us. Our march is dangerously slow, with the baggage train setting the pace, but we are far enough ahead that only their lead elements might catch us. This way, our forces are well rested, while the rebels are pushing and tiring themselves. With the blessing of Fortuna, perhaps they will suffer overconfidence after their earlier successes and commit to foolish action with only their vanguard. If not, we should reach Agedincum before their main army can strike us. It would give our men heart to do unto them as they did unto us at Gergovia. Either way, we win.’
The officers nodded their understanding. Even with eighty thousand men in the field — which was an estimate erring on the high side and they all knew it — the enemy numbered at least half that number again, and that was without any new recruits raised from Bibracte. To meet them in open battle without any other advantage would be foolhardy at best.
‘Let’s hope Fortuna is watching over us then,’ noted Fronto gripping the pendant beneath his tunic fervently.
‘And Mars and Minerva too,’ added Antonius with feeling.
* * * * *
‘And what are your estimates of their numbers?’ Vercingetorix asked the scout, the entire convocation of commanders hanging on the words attentively.
‘Some seventy thousand all in. Mostly legions or cavalry drawn from the tribes. I would say of the horse, twenty five thousand of our people and sundry Roman horsemen among them, split into three groups.’
‘And they appear to be making for Agedincum?’
The scout nodded, and Vercingetorix sighed and scrubbed his untamed hair, wild and matted from days in the wilds. ‘Then we are faced with a choice, my friends. Do we continue to bring up the whole army and face Caesar with our forces complete, which almost certainly means we will be forced to besiege them in their main garrison, or do we leave our infantry to catch up as soon as they can and make an attempt to stop him reaching Agedincum with our horse in the meantime? Opinions?’
A thoughtful silence filled the tent.
‘We have how many horse?’ Cavarinos asked.
‘With our new recruits, almost forty thousand.’
‘So enough to take their cavalry in a fair fight, but probably not enough to beat the legions.’
‘They do not need to beat the legions,’ Critognatos grunted. ‘Weren’t you listening? This is just to slow them. To stop them reaching their fortress while our army catches up.’
‘It’s still a very dangerous game to play,’ Cavarinos sighed. ‘Caesar has a habit of pulling surprising tricks on us. Just because our horse outnumber theirs does not make the result a foregone conclusion.’
‘Most of their horse are actually drawn from our own people,’ Litavicus noted. ‘I do not know how Caesar has persuaded them to stay in his army while their tribes pledge to us, but they will not fight their countrymen, I am certain. Once our forces have them pinned, rest assured that all his cavalry drawn from our tribes will turn to our banner.’
‘Do not be too sure of that either,’ Cavarinos murmured. ‘There will be many among them who have tasted the advantages of Rome and will hunger for more.’