The Pillars of Rome (39 page)

One look at the centurion was enough. Clodius shrugged and opened his mouth to explain, but the general shouting orders for the two of them to join him cut off his words. Flaccus moved down the slope immediately and Clodius spurted to catch him.

‘Gone,’ he said.

‘All of it?’ asked Flaccus with a catch in his throat. ‘That soothsayer…’

‘Later,’ replied Clodius, as they came abreast of their commander. Aulus turned and started to jog south, his men at his heels. They left the clearing and the bodies and as soon as the sound of their presence faded, the vultures came back to feed.

‘That’s not a bunch of rebels, it’s an army.’

Normally sparing in his use of words, this statement from Aulus marked the level of his surprise, since those he had just used were superfluous. The road before them dropped away steeply, twisting left and right as it wound its way down to the plain below. The whole landscape was covered with marching men, all heading in their direction.

‘Where have they all come from?’ asked Flaccus.

‘Dacia!’ replied Aulus emphatically. ‘They’ve been supporting the Illyrian insurrection for years. I knew it didn’t smell right. They probably incited the Epirotes to rebel as well.’

‘What about the lot we saw last night?’

‘Poor Trebonius,’ he sighed. They knew that their general meant ‘poor everybody’. ‘The tribesmen he ran into were Illyrians heading south.’

‘To join up with this lot?’ asked Flaccus.

‘They can’t know we’re at Thralaxas, otherwise they would never have come on. Common sense would have told them to halt and fortify the pass, which means that we’ve moved a lot faster than
they think. They expect to get back through there without a fight.’

The Illyrians had no need to come south at all, of course. They could have waited until the promised allies arrived. Did that mean they were prey to doubt, unsure that the promised support would be forthcoming? If so, that indicated a lack of trust, even the possibility of divided loyalties. Aulus did not analyse these thoughts in too great a depth, being experienced enough to know that war was an art most often conducted in a form of mental semi-darkness. He also knew that good generalship, once you had assembled all the available information, was instinctive. Without another word, he spun on his heel and started jogging back to the north. His soldiers dragged themselves to their feet and followed. They passed the heap of bodies again, but there was no time to bury or burn anyone. All they could do as they jogged past was offer a quick prayer for their souls to the Goddess
Dea Tactica
.

The sun was getting low in the sky; Flaccus stood beside his general studying the map he was tracing in the ground with the stick. ‘Tell Vegetius Flaminus to send me two more cohorts to hold the pass, plus a couple of catapults and half the cavalry. I want him to force-march his army to the east, throw a bridge across the Lisenus river and make for that plain to the south where we saw the enemy today.
Once he’s there he’s to fortify a camp and let them know that he’s behind them. If we’ve held them here they will realise that there’s no way forward.’

‘Which means they’ll turn and attack our legions,’ added Flaccus happily, so carried away by the flow of the general’s words that he felt no qualms about speaking.

‘They might,’ replied Aulus, doubtfully. ‘I’m rather hoping they will see that their situation is hopeless and try and disperse.’

The centurion was shocked. ‘No battle, sir?’

Aulus gave him a wry smile. ‘One of the advantages, Didius Flaccus, of serving under a general who’s already had a triumph, is that he has no desire left to sacrifice troops in order to advance his career. I hope for a victory, I can forgo the battle.’

‘What about the Illyrian rebels?’

‘Probably the only thing that’s sustained them is the hope of a general uprising in the whole region. Once this is over, I think their rebellion will finally collapse.’

He handed Flaccus a scroll tied with a red ribbon. ‘Anyway, I’ve had Cholon write out the orders, so there’ll be no chance of an error.’

Having lost one fortune, Flaccus was even more painfully aware than usual of the prospect of booty; it could be that the only fighting would be here at the Pass of Thralaxas. The enemy was coming this
way, and they might have his money with them. He pulled himself to attention. ‘With respect, General, could I detail someone else to carry your despatch.’

‘You wish to stay and fight?’

‘I do, sir.’

‘Sorry, Flaccus. You’re the most senior man here, apart from me. I can’t go and leave you with such a heavy responsibility, nor can I deliver such a message in the hands of any old ranker. You are one of the senior centurions in the legion. You have enough weight to emphasise the importance of what you carry. However, once you have delivered your despatch, you may return with the reinforcements.’

Clodius had had no chance to talk to Flaccus. Not that either of them had much time now, with the centurion making ready to leave and, really, what was there to say? He told Flaccus what he had found and why he thought the cache had been discovered. The grizzled veteran just grunted, though the look he gave Clodius left the ranker in no doubt that he held him to blame. Stammering slightly, he opened his belt and reached into the cavity holding the gold coins.

‘I did find this in the grass. One of them must have dropped them.’ Clodius held his hand out, with the four gold coins gleaming in his palm, trying to sound cheerful. ‘Not much after what we
had, I know. But better than a poke in the eye, eh! He took two coins and offered them to Flaccus. ‘Half each.’

The centurion took the coins, looking at those Clodius still held in his hand, then, with a swift motion he snatched them as well. Clodius made to protest, but Flaccus gave him a very hard look. ‘That’ll go some way to paying off the money you owe me. Let’s hope you have some luck here as well mate, ’cause I retire soon, and I want that lot paid back before I go home. Every sesterces!’

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Aulus, having sent Flaccus off with his orders, inspected the fortifications, pronounced himself satisfied with the work, then set his tired men to collecting heavy stones for the catapults he hoped would arrive shortly. The part they would play in slowing down the enemy stifled any dissent. Aulus intended to site them so that the stones, thrown against the steep rocks of the pass, would bounce off the enclosing walls and carry on down the narrow defile. If both catapults could be brought to bear at the same time, it would set up a barrage that no troops could withstand.

‘That’s the first phase,’ he said the following morning, to troops now rested and fed. ‘When our reinforcements arrive, I intend to put one cohort on the top of each hill so that the enemy can’t outflank us. I’ve asked for some cavalry, as well, to use as a mobile reserve.’

Clodius had never served under a commander
who took so much trouble to explain his intentions, and no high falutin’ stuff either, just plain speaking. He had been in quite a few battles and the best he had ever had was a ringing declaration of the need to do his duty, usually delivered from the oration platform by a man who would probably be well back from the actual point of fighting.

‘The Dacians are a Celtic tribe, and from what we know of them they lack discipline. Celts are all right if things are going their way, but the chain of command is usually a bit fractured, with various thanes vying for the leadership, so any reverse tends to lead to a lot of internal dissension. Their allies, both Epirote and Illyrian, can’t be anything more than a scratch force of malcontents, not soldiers in the sense we use the term. They will outnumber us heavily, but we have several things in our favour. Training for one plus the fact that we are fighting in a strong defensive position and the knowledge that we only have to hold until Vegetius gets astride their rear.’

Aulus paused for a second, then smiled at the assembled men. ‘And courage, of course, in abundance.’

He had skirmishers set well down the pass, with runners out even further ahead, to keep him informed as to what point the enemy had reached. They were coming on at a steady pace, probably still unaware that the Romans held the pass. If they continued their advance units would be upon him
the following day. Aulus had to fight hard not to keep looking to the north. He had deliberately declined to say precisely when he expected reinforcements, so as to avoid a creeping sense of gloom overtaking his men as the day wore on. The nagging fear that misfortune could undo all his plans never left him. Should he have sent a strong party with the centurion? Flaccus, alone, even if he was on the general’s own horse, could easily fall off. Rebels or just plain robbers could ambush him; enough people had been dispossessed by Vegetius’ depredations. The countryside fairly teemed with them, half starving, and willing to kill for a bite to eat. Would they take on a well-armed man?

He had an odd feeling, for no prospective battle before had affected him like this. It was not that he was outnumbered – Romans usually were – nor that he was in an exposed position. It was really the idea of not being totally in control. His men, who spent a good deal of their time looking north, seeking the tell-tale dust clouds that would herald the approach of more troops, also glanced at him constantly, so that they could be reassured by his calm exterior. Cholon watched him carefully too, but he was not fooled, sensing that his master was troubled. Finally he decided to speak, as a way of breaking the growing tension.

‘Might I suggest that we do a little hunting, your honour. It will relieve the boredom and stock up
our larder. After all, we don’t know how long we’re going to be here.’

‘If the men see me leave here, carrying my weapons, on your horse, Cholon, I hardly think it will make them feel secure.’

‘Then let me take some of them.’

Aulus shook his head. ‘They have a hard fight ahead, let them rest. Besides, the reinforcements will bring up supplies.’

Cholon paused for a moment, turning his head to look at the barren rocky landscape and the men dotted around it. ‘They’d all like to know the answer to one question. Am I permitted to ask it?’

Aulus gave him a grim smile. ‘If there’s no sign of the men I’ve sent for by dawn tomorrow, I would say we are in trouble.’

‘Dawn tomorrow?’ said Cholon surprised. ‘Surely they’ll be here before that.’

‘The cavalry, yes. The foot soldiers could take longer. I shall be annoyed if Vegetius has instructed them to stay together.’

‘When will the enemy attack?’ asked Cholon.

Aulus spun away, suddenly angered by the interrogation, his reply unusually harsh. ‘Tomorrow, not at first light and before you ask what time, I don’t know.’

He walked around the area, checking on his men, who sat in every patch of shade. One of them was using a stick to draw in the red sandy earth, exposing
as he did so the darker crimson soil underneath and Aulus stopped to look. The blood drained from his face as he saw the outline and he stood, rock still, staring at it. The look brought the trooper jumping to attention and the stick dropped from his hand so his fist could crash into his breastplate.

‘General!’

The sound, as well as the crisply delivered acknowledgement, seemed to break whatever spell gripped Aulus. He looked at the trooper, and fought with his tumultuous emotions in an effort to smile. These men needed reassurance, not their commander’s probably groundless superstitions about an old prophecy.

‘Sit down, soldier. Don’t waste your energy saluting me. Save it for the enemy.’

The trooper had to salute again, regulations demanded it. Aulus merely nodded, looked at the ground again thinking that the dark crimson earth that stick had exposed looked very like blood, frowned, then walked away to continue his rounds. The soldier waited till he was gone before he sat down. He then picked up the stick and tried to add the finishing touches to the drawing. It was far from perfect, but it was a fair representation of the eagle charm that Fulmina had taken off Aquila’s foot that day Clodius had found him in the woods.