“Comrades,” he cried, once we were assembled in the forum, the Centurions in the rear Cohorts relaying his words for all to hear, “we have been betrayed!”
Despite having already gotten wind of this, his confirmation produced a stir, and he waited for a moment for the men to subside. “Even now, a force of the faithless Aedui are marching to join Vercingetorix, and we will find ourselves trapped between two armies.”
One aspect of Caesar’s leadership was that, rather than try to minimize the danger, he was more likely to confront what we would consider bad news head on, and indeed sometimes I think he may have exaggerated it a bit, given how things always seemed to turn out in our favor. Nonetheless, this was one time that he seemed to be genuinely, if not alarmed, at the least surprised. “What I am about to ask you to do will not be easy, given the labors that we have been undergoing,” he continued, “so I will not order, but I will ask you to do this for your commander. We must not waste time; we must march, now. I will leave two Legions here, one in the big camp, and the 8th manning the small camp. The four remaining Legions I ask to march with me, to confront the Aedui. Together, we will make them pay for their treachery!”
Now, we would have gone no matter what, except if he ordered it, we would have done so grumbling every step of the way. However, by couching it as he did, a humble favor begged of us by their commander, it made us not only willing, but eager to grant it to him. As the men began to cheer and shout their agreement to march, I was swept up in my admiration for the man before us. Once again, he struck the perfect notes, making such a beautiful melody that we could not help wanting to dance to it. Breaking the formation, we ran to get our gear to form up to march, and it was almost like we were going to some sort of games or festival, so lighthearted was the mood. I even caught Vibius smiling and talking animatedly to Scribonius, although when he saw me looking at him, he tried to put on a scowl, as if he were displeased, but even he could not pull it off and we both burst out laughing as we got ready to march.
The Aedui host was commanded by a sub-chief named Litaviccus, and along with his 10,000 men on foot, he had about 500 cavalry. Marching with the 9th, 11th and 13th, along with all of our cavalry, our force included a contingent of Aeduan cavalry, at least the ones who did not flee to join the rebels. When Caesar learned that it was Litaviccus leading the advancing column he ordered the arrest of the sub-chief's two brothers who were serving in our cavalry, but they had already fled to join him. We did not much blame them for that; blood is blood, and it is only right that family stand together. It did not mean that we would not kill them just as quickly and unmercifully as anyone else, it would just not be with the rancor we felt for men who chose to rebel on their own, without the inducement of family ties. On their own march, at the end of the day, we later learned that Litaviccus held an assembly of his army, whereupon he informed them that Caesar had already treacherously murdered all of the Aedui cavalry, then producing the same two brothers, made them swear that they managed to escape and the story was true. This understandably roused the Aedui into a great fury, so that they resumed the march the next day in a state of great wrath. Meanwhile, we marched through the day and into the night, covering more than 20 miles before it got dark. To be sure we were tired, but we were still in great spirits, with Caesar marching on foot with us every step of the way, one of his slaves leading Toes, his horse that was almost as famous as Caesar by this time. As far as whether or not his steed had toes, as the name implies and for which he earned his fame, I will make no comment on that matter because I do not wish to dispute more learned men who claim that the horse’s hooves were of this nature. Our scouts spotted the enemy’s camp just as they were beginning to start on their day’s march, prompting Caesar to order us to deploy in a triplexacies, as if we were about to go into battle, which very well may have been the case. Taking our spot on the far right, with the 9th to our left, we waited while Caesar and his bodyguard rode ahead under a flag of truce. Accompanying him were two Aedui who had not defected, Eporedorix and Viridomarus, two young noblemen, who ended up being the unwitting cause for the collapse of the Aedui army, and rebellion. It turned out that Litaviccus had mentioned these two men by name as two of those slaughtered, since both of them came from powerful families and were well-respected by the rest of the Aedui. Seeing them alive and unharmed, the Aedui instantly knew they were duped, but before they could drag him off his horse, Litaviccus and his retainers escaped back to Aedui territory. The entire force of 10,000 men then swore another oath of loyalty to Caesar, claiming that they were misled. Caesar accepted their oaths and they went unpunished; in fact, he considered these to be the 10,000 men that the Aedui swore to provide when he adjudicated the dispute between them. Subsequently, we were told to stand down, although no camp was made, just being given a total of a full watch to rest before we turned around to head back to camp at Gergovia.
It was during this rest interval that a courier came galloping up to Caesar on a lathered horse, leapt off and cried, “Caesar, the camp's under heavy attack! It’s about to fall!”
Vercingetorix saw an opportunity, and he seized it. Mounting a full scale assault on the big camp, the Legate Caesar left behind, Fabius, with us for a couple of years at this point, was barely managing to maintain the integrity of the camp defenses. It was our artillery that saved the men of the 14th and half of the 8th from destruction, wreaking havoc in the ranks of the Gauls while, despite our fatigue, we marched through the night, hurrying not just to the aid of our comrades, but to rescue our valuables left back in camp. Doubtless, we wanted to save other Romans, just do not mistake our motives for being completely selfless. Many, if not most of us, were at least as concerned with the camp being plundered as we were the fate of fellow Legionaries. Whatever it was that pushed each of us, we marched through the night, coming within sight of the camp shortly before dawn. The Arverni, now that they faced the bulk of the army, immediately retreated back up the hill, yet they inflicted a fair amount of damage, mostly on our men, and mostly the result of slings and arrows. This had one somewhat happy effect; the number of killed in the Cohorts was not nearly as high as it could have been, but even so, the 8th and 14th suffered a good number of men out of action for a while. And Gergovia still remained unconquered.
While we rested, Caesar made his way to the small camp to check on the situation there, and it was when he was there he saw that finally, Vercingetorix made a mistake. Like Caesar, the Gaul recognized that the saddle between the plateau on which the town sat and another set of hills to the west was of strategic importance, because it offered the only route that could safely be traveled by mules, thereby making it the main avenue for supplies. However, because he recognized its importance, Vercingetorix chose to concentrate his forces, and to do so, he abandoned the hill nearest the second camp that overlooked the beginning of the area of the saddle. Vercingetorix pulled his men and positioned them to defend the most practicable approach, located on the west side of the clump of hills across the saddle from Gergovia. If we could gain the height of the hill they abandoned, we would in effect be on the flank of the Gauls, almost directly behind the defenses that they were erecting to block the expected line of attack. It was from this that Caesar formed his plan, and he hurried back to the main camp to put it into action. We were about to assault Gergovia, and suffer the first taste of defeat that most of us had experienced.