Caesar was always a man for surprises and he had one in store, not just for his enemy but mainly for us. Despite our conviction that we would be heading into a deep, dark forest to confront not just the Suebi but any other creature, real or supernatural, that dwelled within, Caesar determined that he instead would force the Suebi from their position. Instructing the Ubii to bring in all the Suebi cattle and harvest whatever grain had ripened, he denuded the land of anything edible, depriving the Suebi of their food supply, except it did not have the intended results. Instead, it drove the Suebi further into the fastness of their forests, where their skills at hunting kept them well-fed, or so insisted the Ubii. Whatever the cause, there were many prayers of thanks when the orders were given that, instead of pursuing them, we would be retreating back across the Rhenus. However, to remind both the Suebi and the Ubii of our might, Caesar instructed that our entire side of the bridge, not just the pilings this time, be left intact, so that it would only be a matter of a couple of days whereby we could re-cross the river and be back in their lands, should Caesar desire it to be so. It was now passing into the later part of the summer, so Caesar decided to turn his attention to a man who had occupied our thoughts for this whole year. It was time to settle the score with Ambiorix.
Putting the cavalry under the command of one of the fine young men by the name of Minucius Basilus, Caesar sent this force ahead on our march to the west. Meanwhile, we returned to our winter quarters, almost momentarily it seemed, spending perhaps a night there to pick up the other Legions he ordered to meet us. Among them were the raw tirones of the 14th, and when we saw them, we almost pissed ourselves with laughter at how young and green they were, until Calienus pointed out that it was not that long ago that we looked exactly the same. This sobered us instantly, causing us to look at each other, realizing the truth of his words. Additionally, there was no hiding the fact that there were men missing from our midst. It is moments like this, when you stop to think about what you have truly lost, that make your time in the army difficult and it was a sober bunch of us that marched past the youths of the 14th, each of us saying a quiet word to whatever young boy was nearest us, giving them a word of encouragement. I met eyes with a young lad, something astonishing in itself; there are not many men I can meet eye to eye without looking down, and I looked into a pair of blue eyes that widened at the sight of me, undoubtedly thinking the same thing I was. In the instant our eyes met, I smiled, throwing him a wink, the canny veteran letting the young tiro know that everything would be all right. He smiled back, and as we marched by I could see, with some relief if the gods must know, that while he was my height he did not have my build. He was quite stringy, really, his armor hanging from his frame as if it were on the wooden stand instead of on a man, and I remember thinking to myself, he’ll have time to fill it out.
Young Basilus, although even as I characterize him so I am forced to chuckle, since I was at best a year or two older than he, rode rapidly through the vast forests that stretch to the west from the Rhenus. Under Caesar’s orders, they made cold camp every night, not lighting a fire and eating their rations cold. Following behind, the entire army was now united, and such a massive amount of men and animals takes an almost unimaginable amount of food and forage, yet thanks to our organization, we were almost always well-fed and well-watered. Because of all of the artillery our baggage train was excessively heavy, and with the army intact we could not march with our usual speed, Caesar or no, so we trudged along, walking down now-familiar paths heading back towards the west to find Ambiorix. Along the way, we came across the old camp of Sabinus and Cotta, and despite what we believed to be the ill omens attached, Caesar gave the order to resurrect it, instructing that the baggage slowing us down be left behind, along with the boys of the 14th Legion to guard it. This order would not have been met with much enthusiasm normally, but Caesar gave this command to young Cicero. He had acquitted himself with much honor and glory in the siege of his camp some time before, although the 7th Legion was now seriously understrength because of that ordeal, so we felt better at the idea of leaving our valuables behind with the boys of the 14th. Because that is essentially what we were doing; when a commander refers to “heavy baggage”, he is referring not only to his own personal luxuries, and as much as I loved, and still love Caesar, he was not one to travel without his comforts. In our case, heavy baggage meant that every valuable that we could not conveniently carry in our pack, or tuck away on the Century mules, or even the Legion’s wagons had to be left behind. One of the benefits of marching with Caesar’s army was the plunder; although many men did not finish that way, at one point, particularly by the fifth year, we were all rich men. While I was frugal, immediately selling anything of value that I could not carry and depositing it with one of the plutocrats that dealt with the army, many men had other ideas. The most common form of plunder were the statues of the various Gallic gods rendered in some sort of precious metal, usually gold or silver. If one of them came into my hands, I would immediately sell it or have it melted down, yet many men refused to do so, partially because they thought it more valuable in its original form or they banked that some rich citizen would buy it so that he could brag about being involved in the conquest of Gaul. However, I believe it was mostly due to their fear of drawing the ire of the god that the statue represented. Regardless, they were essentially stuck, and it was items such as these that were part of “heavy baggage.”