Just as the men sensed that perhaps this was as bad as it was going to get, the puppet master pulled one more string. His voice to that point had been what one could call soothing, but now it turned to icy, controlled anger.
“But I can fault you for disobeying me, your general. By rights, I could order the offending Legions to be decimated,” he roared this last word, instantly followed by an audible gasp from the entire army, ourselves included, despite the fact we would not have been subject to that horrible punishment. Just as quickly, his voice returned to that of a kindly, loving but firm parent and he finished, “But that is not my wish, nor will it happen, now or ever because I am confident that my words today are enough chastisement, and that you will never disobey me again.”
Again, a palpable sense of relief swept through the army. I heard a voice cry out from one of the offending Legions.
“We'll never fail you again Caesar, or you can order us all to put ourselves to the sword!”
The rest of the men roared their agreement, with Caesar allowing the demonstration to continue for a moment before he held up his hand. As if to prove their commitment to their words, the camp fell silent instantly, faster than I could ever remember when Caesar called for silence. I was close enough that I could see that ghost of a smile cross his lips, but his voice remained steady, betraying no emotion.
“I know that you will not fail me again. And now comrades, I am going to give you a chance to redeem your honor!”
Another roar of approbation, another gesture followed by complete silence as we all strained to hear what he was planning.
“We are going to go out today and show Vercingetorix and his army that they have done nothing more than arouse our anger! We are going to offer them battle, and let us see if they have the courage to respond to our challenge!”
This time, he let our roaring continue, the sound rolling out over the walls of the camp. I have no doubt that Vercingetorix and his mob heard us, and knew that we were coming for them.
Marching out of the camp, we arrayed ourselves in our normal aciestriplex with the 10th on the right, and the 13th anchoring the far left. Caesar positioned us along a roughly north/south axis, facing the gigantic hill, in the small valley between the hill on which our camp was located and Gergovia, perhaps a mile from the base of the plateau that the town sat on. And it was there we waited, through almost two full watches, daring Vercingetorix to come down and fight us, but he must have possessed some Roman blood because he did not act in the normal Gallic fashion. Indeed, he refused to face us not only that day, but the following day when we performed the same maneuver. While this action may have restored our pride to a degree, the larger situation was still deteriorating rapidly, the word of our setback at Gergovia sweeping through Gaul. In response to these developments, and truthfully, recognizing that the army at his command was not large enough to invest Gergovia, we were ordered on the march, moving back to the north. Vercingetorix, for reasons that can only be guessed at, chose not to pursue us, probably wise given the openness of the terrain we were marching over, and our mood. Moving along the Elaver River, on the third day of the march we repaired one of the damaged bridges, crossing back over to the eastern side. It was here that Caesar learned that the cunnus Litaviccus, who somehow made it to Gergovia after he fled his fellow Aedui that day, was heading back to them, leading most of the Gallic cavalry in another attempt to convince them to switch to the side of Vercingetorix. The difference this time was that it was almost a certainty that he would be successful; after all, did Vercingetorix not just prove that we were not invincible? The two men Eporedorix and Viridomarus, who helped us turned the tide that day with Litaviccus and been marching with us ever since, now begged Caesar leave so that they could try to reason with their fellow tribesmen and convince them to remain faithful to Caesar. Who knows, perhaps they were sincere at that moment; all I know is that the next time we heard their names, they were now riding with Litaviccus instead of against him. In other words, the usual faithless Gauls.
It was about three days after the two traitors left that the most catastrophic news to date reached the army. What one must realize is that, despite the best intentions of the officers, there are no secrets in an army. It matters not what size it is, there is no way that any piece of intelligence, orders, or especially gossip, the more salacious the better, will not be common knowledge by the lowest Gregarii less than a day later. Therefore, when word that Noviodunum was taken and sacked, the garrison of auxiliaries massacred, and all of our grain either carried off or destroyed, something close to a panic whipped through the army. Our situation had never been so grim, and we all knew it. Even men like me with the utmost faith in Caesar held serious doubts that he would be able to get us out of the dire straits in which we found ourselves. All around us, Gallic cavalry patrols were scouring the countryside, locating any supplies and either taking them or destroying them. Behind us to the south were the Arverni and the main army of Vercingetorix, still at Gergovia, at least as far as we knew. We were heading to cross the Liger River in order to reunite with Labienus and his four Legions, but the mountain snows were exceptionally heavy, making the river a torrent so that crossing it was an exercise that would take more time than we could afford. To our west, the Bituriges were thirsting for revenge for Avaricum while the Aedui, now in full revolt, had as their object pinning us between the Liger and the Elaver, then starving us into submission. Our choices were extremely limited, to put it mildly. If we were to try retreating south back to the Province, not only would it be a dangerous move because of crossing the snow-covered mountains that serve as the boundary between the Province and Gaul, we would also be essentially leaving Labienus and the four other Legions alone, cut off and surrounded by a massively numerically superior enemy. But then, Caesar received a piece of intelligence, and in that one bit of information, saw a way not only out of our present predicament, but also a way to turn the tables on the enemy once more.
As part of Vercingetorix’s grand strategy, he gave orders that every tribe must destroy their own supplies of food, both in grain and cattle. He understood that the key to beating us was only by weakening us and the best way to do so was by starvation. Personally, I think it is something to be admired about him that he was able to convince such a fractious people as the tribes of Gaul to obey, and they all did as he commanded, despite it meaning a long, hard winter for them. All but one tribe, however, and it was this piece of news that Caesar seized upon, that the Aedui, so confident of success now that they were with Vercingetorix, saw no need to starve themselves. And as usual, he wasted no time; we were ordered to break camp within the watch that he received the news, despite the fact that it was shortly after dark and we just finished building the camp in the first place. However, we all knew that our fates were hanging in the balance, so there was no complaining at the order. Not more than a third of a watch after it was given we began to march. This was another of the very few times marching with Caesar where we did not destroy the camp, as I believe that he did not want to give the Gallic cavalry assigned to watch us any idea that something was happening. Marching through the night, we stopped for a rest only lasting two parts of the watch shortly after dawn, before picking back up and resuming our movement. Pressing on the next day, we stopped once again in the afternoon to rest, making it just around sunset when we reached the banks of the Liger, a few miles south of what remained of Noviodunum, the smoke from the town visible for the last full watch of our approach. There was no time to build a bridge, so Caesar sent his cavalry to look for a fordable part of the river, and they found one, if it could be called a ford. The only way we could get across was by the cavalry moving upstream to block the flow of water, with another line of cavalrymen downstream serving to stop any man who lost his footing from being swept away. The water was neck deep for most of the men, forcing them to hold their shield in one hand above their head, along with their pack and javelins in the other. Although I was not immersed as deeply, I was just as subject to the frigid temperature of the water, courtesy of the melted snow. Because we were one of the first Legions across, we were forced to stand, shivering and waiting for the rest of the army to cross before we resumed the march.