Emperor_ The Field Of Swords Part 20

Putting these thoughts aside, Brutus leaned on the railing himself and looked out as the boat approached the Roman side and the oarsmen leapt out into the shallow water to drag it clear of the river. They stood in the very shadow of the wall the Romans had built to stop them. Even with their numbers, Brutus didn't think they would try to break the Roman line.

"They must see we could sink every boat with spears and stones before they can land. It would be suicide to attack," Julius said.

"And if they go in peace?" Mark Antony asked, without taking his eyes from the messengers that stood aside from their oarsmen below.

Julius shrugged. "Then I will have demonstrated Roman authority over them. One way or another, I will have my foothold in this country."

Brutus and Cabera both turned to look at the man they knew and saw a savage pleasure in his face as he stood tall on the rampart to hear the words of the Helvetii.

They had seen a similar expression when Mark Antony had addressed the first council of generals months before.

"I am glad you are here, gentlemen," Mark Antony had said. "We are about to be overrun."

Julius had wanted a wild land to win, Brutus thought to himself. The Helvetii were only one of the tribes in that region, never mind the entire country that Julius dreamed of taking for Rome. Yet the dark moods of Spain could never be imagined in the man who stood with them on the ramparts. They could all feel it and Cabera closed his eyes as his senses were cast loose against his will into the tumbling roads of the future.

The old man slumped and would have fallen had Brutus not caught him. No one else moved as the messengers spoke and Julius turned to his interpreter to hear the words in halting Latin. Out of sight of the riders, he grinned to himself, then stood to face them, both hands on the wide railing.

"No," he called down. "You shall not pa.s.s."

Julius looked at Mark Antony.

"If they march west around the Rhone before striking south, which tribes lie in their path?"

"The Aedui are directly west of us, so they would suffer most, though the Ambarri and Allobroges-" Mark Antony began.

"Which of those is the richest?" Julius interrupted.

Mark Antony hesitated. "The Aedui are reputed to have vast herds of cattle and-"

"Summon their leader to me with the fastest riders and guarantees of safety," Julius said, looking back over the railing. Below, the boat was already pulling for the far sh.o.r.e, still close enough for him to see the anger of the men in it.

Two nights later, the small fort was quiet, though Julius could hear the tramp of feet as the watch changed on the walls. New barracks had been built for the soldiers he had brought from Rome, but the three legions from Ariminum still slept in their tents in fortified camps. Julius didn't intend building anything more permanent for them. He hoped it would not be necessary.

He waited impatiently as his words were relayed to the chief of the Aedui through the interpreter Mark Antony had supplied. The man seemed to ramble on far longer than Julius thought was justified, but he had decided not to tell them Adrn could speak their language, preferring to keep that advantage secret. His Spanish scribe had been startled when they had first heard the words of the Gauls. His people spoke a variation of the same tongue, enough for him to understand most of the conversations. Julius wondered if they had been one nation at some time in the far past, some nomadic tribe from distant lands who had settled Gaul and Spain while Rome was still a small village amongst seven hills.

Adrn attended every meeting after that, masking his listening with laborious copying out of Julius's dictated notes and letters. When they were alone, Julius would question him closely and his memory was usually faultless.

Julius glanced at the studious young Spaniard as the interpreter repeated the danger of the Helvetii in what must have been endless detail. The leader of the Aedui was typical of his race, a dark-haired man with black eyes and a hard, fleshless face, partly hidden by a growth of beard that shone with oil. The Aedui claimed to have no king, but Mhorbaine was their chief magistrate, elected rather than born.

Julius tapped the fingers of one hand on the other as Mhorbaine answered and the interpreter paused to consider his translation.

"The Aedui are willing to accept your aid in repelling the Helvetii from their borders," the interpreter said at last.

Julius barked a laugh that made Mhorbaine jump.

"*Are willing'?" he said with amus.e.m.e.nt. "Tell him I will save his people from destruction if they pay in grain and meat. My men have to be fed. Thirty thousand men need more than two hundred cattle slaughtered each day, as a minimum. I will accept the equivalent in game or mutton, as well as grain, bread, oil, fish, and spices. Without supplies, I do not move."

The negotiation began in earnest then, delayed at every stage by the slow translation. Julius ached to throw the interpreter out and have Adrn's quick wits in his place, but held his patience as the hours stretched on and the moon rose orange over the mountains behind them. Mhorbaine too seemed to be losing his patience, and when they were all waiting for the interpreter to complete another hesitant phrase, the Gaul chopped his hand in the air, speaking in clear Latin, with an accent of Rome.

"Enough of this fool. I understand you well enough without him."

Julius broke into laughter at the revelation. "He murders my language, I know that. Who taught you the words of Rome?"

Mhorbaine shrugged. "Mark Antony sent men to all the tribes when he first came. Most of them were killed and sent back to him, but I kept mine. This miserable creature learned from the same man, though badly. He has no ear for languages, but he was all I had to offer."

The negotiations went faster after that and Julius was amused by the Gaul's attempt to conceal his knowledge. He wondered if Mhorbaine guessed at Adrn's function at the meeting. It was probable. The Aedui leader was sharply intelligent and Julius could feel the man's cool a.s.sessment of him right to the end.

When it was finished, Julius stood to clasp Mhorbaine by the shoulder. There was muscle there, underneath the woolen cloth. The man was more a battle leader than a magistrate, at least as Julius understood the role. He ushered Mhorbaine out to the horses and went back in to where Adrn stood to meet him.

"Well?" Julius said. "Did I miss anything useful before Mhorbaine lost his patience?"

Adrn smiled at his amus.e.m.e.nt. "Mhorbaine asked the interpreter if you had the strength to turn the Helvetii and he said he thought it likely. That's all you did not hear. They have no choice if they do not wish to see their herds swallowed by the Helvetii."

"Perfect. I am transformed from a foreign invader every bit as dangerous as the Helvetii, to a Roman answering a call for help from a beleaguered tribe. Put that in the reports back to the city. I want my people to think well of what we do here."

"Is that important?" Adrn asked.

Julius snorted. "You have no idea how important. The citizens do not want to know how countries are won. They prefer to think of foreign armies surrendering to our moral superiority rather than our strength. I am forced to tread carefully here, even with my orders from the Senate. If the powers s.h.i.+ft in Rome, I can still be recalled, and there will always be enemies who would delight in seeing me disgraced. Send the reports with enough coin to have them read on every street and in the forum. Let the people know how we are progressing in their name."

Julius paused, his amus.e.m.e.nt fading as he thought of the problems he faced.

"Now all we have to do is defeat the largest army I have ever seen and there really will be good news to send back to Rome," he said. "Summon Brutus, Mark Antony, Octavian, Domitius, all of my council. Renius too, his advice is always sound. Tell Brutus to send out his scouts. I want to know where the Helvetii are and how they are organized. Quickly, lad. We have a battle to plan and I want to be on the march by dawn."

CHAPTER 23.

Julius lay on his stomach to watch the Helvetii move across the plain. Even as he concentrated, some part of him noted the lush greenness of the land. It made the soil of Rome look poor in comparison. Instead of the barren mountains of the south he knew, where farmers scratched a living, he saw vast rolling plains of good earth and hungered for it with all the primitive desire of a man who had worked his own crops. Gaul could feed an empire.

The light was beginning to fade and he clenched his fist in excitement as he heard the notes of wailing horns carried to him on the breeze. The great column was halting for the night. One of his scouts came to a skidding stop by him, panting as he too stretched out.

"It looks like all of them, sir. I couldn't see any sort of rear guard or reserve. They're moving fast, but they must rest tonight, or they'll start leaving bodies on the plain."

"They're stopping now," Julius said. "Can you see how the soldiers are settling into groups around the core? Greek spear phalanx, it looks like. I wonder if they came to it on their own, or if their ancestors ever pa.s.sed through that land. If I have the chance, I'll ask one of them."

He scanned the plain, considering his alternatives. A mile behind him in the woods, he had thirty thousand legionaries ready to descend on the Helvetii, but after forcing a march of almost forty miles to intercept the tribe, the men were exhausted. Julius felt frustration that he had been unable to bring the great war ballistae and scorpion bows that formed such a part of the legion's power. The plain would have been perfect for them, but until he cut roads through the land, they stayed in pieces on the carts he'd brought from Rome.

"I've never seen so many warriors," the scout whispered, awed by the army they faced. The Helvetii were too far away to hear, but the sheer size of the migration was oppressive and Julius pitched his voice as low to reply.

"I'd guess eighty thousand, but I can't be sure amongst the followers," he replied.

It was too many to send the legions in a straight attack, even if they were not worn down by the march.

"Bring Brutus to me," he ordered.

It was not long before he heard running footsteps and Brutus was there with him, crouching in the damp leaves.

The Helvetii had marched through a wide valley that led into the lands of the Aedui. They had forced a hard pace to skirt the river, and Julius was impressed at their stamina and organization as the night camp began to form on the plain. If they struck any deeper into Aedui lands, they would be into heavy forest and the legions' advantages would be lost. These were not the wide-s.p.a.ced woods he knew from Rome, but dense undergrowth that would trap horses and make any sort of organized fighting impossible. Sheer numbers would carry the day then, and the Helvetii had a host of warriors, with nowhere to go but onward.

The tribe had burnt the first village they came to on the border of the Aedui, and the scouts reported no one left alive. Women and animals had been taken into the column and the rest butchered. Village by village, they would cross the land like locusts unless Julius could catch them on the plain. He thanked his G.o.ds that they were not pus.h.i.+ng on through the night. No doubt their numbers made them overconfident, though even with his legions ready, it was difficult to see how to attack so many and win.

Julius turned to Brutus. "You see that hill to the west?" He pointed to a solid crag of layered green and gray in the dim distance. Brutus nodded. "It's a strong position. Take the Tenth and Third to the crest, ready for dawn. The Helvetii will see the threat and they cannot leave you there to harry them. Take the archers from Ariminum, but keep them far back from the front. The bowmen will be better used on your hill than on the plain."

He smiled grimly and clapped Brutus on the shoulder with his hand.

"These tribesmen have never fought legions, Brutus. They will see a mere ten thousand facing them as the sun comes up. You will educate them."

Brutus looked at him. The sun was already setting and its light was reflected in Julius's fierce gaze.

"It will be dark before I reach it," Brutus replied. It was the closest he would come to questioning an order with the scouts listening all around them.

Julius seemed not to notice his reservations, continuing quickly, "You must have silence as you move up. When they see you and charge, I will hit them from the rear. Go quickly."

Brutus slithered back until he was clear and could run for his men.

"On your feet, lads," he said as he came to the first ranks of the Tenth. "You won't get much sleep tonight."

As dawn approached, Julius was back looking over the plain. The sun came up behind him and there was a gray light long before it rose over the mountains. The Helvetii began to move into their marching order, and Julius watched as the warriors bullied the other castes onto their feet. Those with swords and spears had status, Julius could see. They did not carry supplies themselves, remaining free to fight and run. Julius watched for the moment when they would see the legions arrayed on the hill, and the time seemed to stretch endlessly.

Behind him, Mark Antony waited with his legion and three others, cold and grim without breakfast or fires to warm them. It hardly seemed enough to tackle such a vast army, but Julius could think of nothing else to alter the balance.

A horse galloped up from behind and Julius turned in fury to wave the man down before he was seen. He rose to a crouch as he saw the scout's pale features, and when the man slid from his saddle, he could not speak at first for panting.

"Sir, there is an enemy force on the hill to the west! A large number of them."

Julius looked back at the Helvetii in the dim light. They were getting ready to decamp, with no sign of panic or distress. Had they spotted his scouts and prepared a flanking position? His respect for the tribe increased a notch. And where was Brutus? The two forces clearly hadn't met in the darkness, or the sound of battle would have been heard for miles. Had he climbed the wrong hill in the night? Julius swore aloud, furious with the setback. He had no way of communicating with his missing legions, and until they showed themselves, he dared not attack.

"I'll have his b.a.l.l.s," he promised, then turned to the men at his side.

"No horns or signals. Just fall back. Pa.s.s the word to regroup at the stream."

As they moved away, Julius heard the tinny blaring of horns as the Helvetii began to move on. The frustration was appalling and the thought of having to take them in the thick forests was nothing like the crus.h.i.+ng victory he had hoped for.

Brutus waited for the sun to banish the dark shadows on the hill. He had the Tenth arranged before his Third Gallica, depending on their greater experience to stand anything the Helvetii could send against them. In addition, a part of his own legion were from Gaul. Julius had said a legion could be raised in less than a year. Living, working, and fighting together bound men stronger than anything, but there was always the nagging suspicion of what could happen if those men were ordered to fight their own people. When Brutus had asked them about the Helvetii, they had only shrugged at him, as if there could be no conflict. None of them were from the tribe, and those that had come to Rome for gold seemed to claim no special loyalty to those they had left behind. They had been the sort of mercenaries who lived for nothing except pay and found companions.h.i.+p only amongst their own kind. Brutus knew the regular silver and food of the legions would be a dream for some of them, but still he had placed the Tenth to take the first charge.

Though he was unutterably weary after the climb, he had to admit Julius had an eye for good land. If anything, Brutus regretted leaving the extraordinarii back in the camp, but he could not have known the ascent would be easy, with only a few sprains and one broken arm from a bad fall in the darkness. Three men had lost their swords and now carried daggers, but they had crested the hill before dawn and gone over to the far slope without losing a single man. The legionary with the broken arm had strapped it to his chest and would fight left-handed. He had scorned being sent back and pointed to Ciro in the front rank of the Tenth, saying that the big man could throw his spears for him.

In the first glimmers of gray light, Brutus sent whispered orders to dress the formation that stretched across the slopes. Even the veterans of the Tenth looked a little ragged after finding their positions in darkness, and his own legion needed the staffs of their optios to create order. They loosened the ties on their spears as he watched, and with four to a man, Brutus knew they would destroy any charge sent against them. The Helvetii carried oval s.h.i.+elds, but the heavy spears would pin them to the ground, s.h.i.+elds and all.

The sun rose behind the mountains as the Helvetii marched unaware toward their position. Brutus felt the old excitement build as he waited for their soldiers to see the Tenth and Third looking down at them. He grinned in antic.i.p.ation of the first rays of light, and when it came, he laughed aloud at the sight. The sun spread a beam across them from the peaks. Ten thousand helmets and sets of armor went from dull gray to gold in a few minutes. The yellow horsehair plumes of the centurions seemed to glow, and the column of the Helvetii staggered below on the plain as men pointed and shouted a warning.

For the tribe, it was as if the legion had appeared out of nothing, and yet they were not without courage. As soon as the initial shock had faded, they saw the small army that clung to the slopes and almost as one they roared defiance, filling the valley.

"There must be half a million of them. I swear by Mars, there must," Brutus whispered.

He saw the fighting phalanxes swarm to the front, bristling with spears as they began to accelerate over the ground between the armies. Their front ranks carried wide s.h.i.+elds to batter the enemy, but the formations would never survive the broken ridges of the hill. They raced across the s.h.i.+fting scree like wolves, and Brutus shook his head in amazement at the numbers coming toward him.

"Archers-range!" Brutus cried, watching as four arrows flew high and marked the outermost limit of their shots. He had only three hundred from the Ariminum legions and didn't know how skilled they were. Against unprotected men, their fire could be devastating, but he doubted they would be more than an irritation to the Helvetii under their s.h.i.+elds.

"Ready spears!" he bellowed.

The Tenth gathered their four, checking the points one last time. They would not aim them, but launch the heavy iron-headed weapons high into the air, so that they would be dropping almost vertically at the moment of impact. It called for skill, but it was their trade and they were experts.

"Range!" Brutus shouted.

He watched as Ciro tied a red cloth around the b.u.t.t of one of his spears and heaved it into flight with a grunt. None of them could match the big man's distance, and as the spear slammed quivering into the turf, Brutus had his outermost point marked, fifty paces short of the arrows farther down the rocky slope. When the Helvetii charge crossed those lines, they would be running through a hail of missiles. As they pushed past Ciro's spear, forty thousand more would be launched in less than ten heartbeats.

The Helvetii howled as they began to pound up the slope, and a dawn breeze skimmed the hillside, blowing dust off the plains.

"Archers!" Brutus called and, ten ranks back, the lines of bowmen fired with smooth skill until their quivers were empty. Brutus watched the flight of arrows as they fell into the yelling men below, still out of range of the more deadly spears. Many of the shafts were deflected as the tribesmen raised their s.h.i.+elds and ran on, leaving only a few bodies behind them. First blood had been taken. Brutus hoped Julius was ready.

Julius was in the saddle when he heard the tribe roar. He jerked his horse round viciously, looking for the scout who had brought him the news.

"Where is the man who told me the enemy were on the hill?" he shouted, his stomach suddenly dropping away in a hollow feeling.

The call went round and the man came trotting up on his horse. He was very young and pink around the cheeks in the morning cold. Julius glared at him in terrible suspicion.

"The enemy you reported. Tell me what you saw," Julius said.

The young scout stammered nervously under the stare of his general. "There were thousands up on the hill, sir. In the dark, I could not be sure of numbers, but there were many of them, sir. An ambush."

Julius closed his eyes for a moment.

"Arrest that man and hold him for punishment. Those were our legions, you stupid stupid b.a.s.t.a.r.d." b.a.s.t.a.r.d."

Julius wheeled his horse, thinking furiously. They had not traveled more than a few miles from the plain. It might not be too late. He untied his helmet from the saddle horn and pulled it roughly over his face, turning the metal features to face the gathered men.

"The Tenth and Third Gallica are without support. We will march at our fastest pace to attack the Helvetii. Straight in, gentlemen. Straight in, now."

Brutus waited as the Helvetii streamed past the ranging spear until it could not be seen. If he gave the order too early, the Third behind him could throw short. Too late and the crus.h.i.+ng damage of seeing an attack destroyed would be wasted as the front ranks were pa.s.sed over. "Spears!" Brutus cried at his best volume, launching his own into the air.

Ten thousand arms jerked forward and then they were reaching for the second at their feet. Before the first wave landed, Brutus knew the Tenth would have two more in the air. The Third were slower, but only by a little, inspired by the example of the veterans and the nervous fear of the attack.

He had judged it perfectly and the different ranks of the Tenth and Third sent spears in a carpet of whistling iron onto the enemy. Not just the front rank, but most of the first ten went from running warriors to broken corpses in moments. Hundreds died from the first wave, and the men who survived could see the black launch of the second coming at them, even as they urged each other on.