Heads nodded; I was not saying anything particularly surprising at this point and it has never ceased to amaze me how susceptible to flattery Legionaries of all ranks are, and I include myself in that group. We love to be praised, and I could see my honeyed words were striking home with at least a couple of them.
Forging ahead, I continued, “As you all know, we’re in the process of reorganizing the army, and then we’ll be dispersed to winter quarters.”
This was common knowledge, yet what I hoped to do was to impress them with something they did not know.
“Perhaps you'd be interested to know where the 10th is going to be stationed this winter." My words created the desired effect, because to a man they sat forward on their chairs. Waiting for a moment, I savored the undivided attention I was being paid, before I told them, “Narbo. We’re going to be going back to Narbo.”
This was met with a round of cheers; Narbo had been our home for two years and we carried fond memories of the town. Perhaps it was because of the milder climate than the other places we stayed in, although I think it had more to do with the friendly townsfolk, particularly the females.
“Now that you know, we can begin the work of getting the Cohort ready to receive the orders. Whether the men know where we’re going or not, we’re going somewhere, since it’s close to the end of the season and for all intents and purposes the war is over.”
My last sentence raised some eyebrows. Raising his hand, Crispus asked warily, “Excuse me Pilus Prior, but what do you mean ‘for all intents and purposes’? The war’s over, we all know that. Are you saying that something's afoot?”
I hesitated, because the truth was that I had heard no such rumors; my feeling that there would be more fighting was mine and mine alone, putting me in a bit of a dilemma with this question. If I tried to add to the veracity of my beliefs by fabricating some sort of information I was supposedly privy to, then nothing else happened, I would be seen as someone who at the very least exaggerated, if not outright lied. However, if I were to tell the complete truth, that this was merely a feeling I had, how would it be received by these men who, in their eyes at least, were more senior than me, if not by rank than at least by virtue of time in service? My mind raced as I tried to decide the best tactic.
Suddenly, I was inspired. “What I’m saying Crispus is that how many times have Gauls done the stupid thing? What I’m saying is that as long as there's a Gaul alive, given their unpredictability it’s only prudent that we be prepared for another attack at any moment.”
I saw Crispus digest this, and as I would learn about him, despite not being a particularly quick thinker, he inevitably would arrive at the most logical conclusion if given time. Celer and Niger were not willing to even go that far, however, with Celer choosing this moment to make his first overt stab at me. “So, Pilus Prior, you’re not saying this because you…..know anything specific, correct?”
While I did not like the way he inflected the word ‘know’, I could not really argue the point, so I merely nodded. Celer smiled, but it was not a friendly smile as he continued “While your reasoning is certainly sound, Pilus Prior, if I could be so bold to suggest, as a man who's been a Centurion for some time, that it would be a good idea to refrain from that kind of speculation where there are ears that can hear. You know how the Gregarii are; washerwomen have nothing on them when it comes to gossip.”
He finished with a laugh, and I saw Niger try to smother a smirk, but I was not going to be cowed that easily. “Of course, Pilus Posterior, but I’m speaking to my Centurions, not to the men. Are you suggesting that I need to be wary of what I say in front of my officers?”
Looking about in mock surprise, I stared at each of them in turn as if I were trying to determine to whom Celer could possibly be referring. His face turned a satisfying shade of red, and he spluttered, “Of course not! I'd never dare to suggest something like that. I’ve served with these men for a long time, and I trust each of them with my life.”
“As do I,” I replied evenly. “But I’m glad that we settled that question early on. Thank you very much for your insight, Pilus Posterior.” I managed to keep my face completely blank, but it was a struggle.
Before we were marched off to our respective winter camps, the army was assembled one last time, for the final decoration ceremony. My friends were correct; once again I was singled out for decoration, another set of phalarae, causing them to joke that it was lucky I was as big as I was or I would not have room for the decorations. I was one of 20 men of the 10th who were decorated, while there were probably a total of more than 200 decorations given out to the Legions and auxiliaries, particularly the cavalry, the German cavalry most especially. Awarding so many decorations meant that we were standing there for a very long time, and my legs were still very shaky because I was not totally recovered from my wound. In fact, I would never fully recover, at least in the sense that I was never again as limber in some ways, unable to twist my body like I was able to before it happened. Finally I went to the Legion doctors who told me that scars of this nature form a tough tissue with no flexibility that covers the torn muscle, and that I would just have to live with it. Therefore, I stood as still as I could as each Legion received their awards, then each eagle was garlanded with the traditional ivy as a sign of our triumph. Once all that was done, we hailed Caesar as imperator three times, and he was presented with the ivy crown as symbol of his status. I know that a few years later his thinning hair got to the point that he wore it all the time, but he still had enough hair then that he did not feel the need. He did wear it the rest of the day, then put it away.
In the wider world, while the rebellion was essentially crushed, there were still embers of resentment smoldering among the tribes. The 10th was indeed sent to Narbo, the farthest south of any of the Legions. Because of that, we experienced a quiet winter, and somewhat depressingly a quiet next year. The other Legions were not so lucky; before the end of that year Caesar was on the march again, first against the Bituriges, taking the 11th and 13th into the field. It was not much of a rebellion, Caesar realizing that it was more out of desperation than for any other reason because their lands had been ravaged, making them desperately short of food. It took little more than Caesar marching into their lands for the rebellion to collapse where, in order to keep the peace, Caesar did not exact any punitive punishment. Instead of the normal custom of taking hostages and allowing the Legions to enrich themselves by plunder, he paid the troops a bounty out of his own pocket of 200 sesterces per Gregarius, and 2,000 per Centurion as compensation, leaving the Bituriges unmolested. Less than a month later, the Carnutes did the same thing, so Caesar called for the 14th to join him, along with one of Pompey’s Legions that Pompey lent Caesar almost a year before that was in garrison and had not marched with us much, the 6th Legion. I would come to know the men of the 6th very well indeed, but that was still in my future. Caesar forced the Carnutes to flee from the town of Cenabum, as once again the Legions occupied the homes in the town, with the Carnutes forced to live off the land, hiding in the woods and foraging for food in the middle of winter, meaning it was not long before they submitted like the Bituriges. Then, just a couple of weeks later, it was the turn of the Bellovaci, except this was a larger threat than either the Bituriges or Carnutes presented, because the Bellovaci was one of the two tribes that held back from joining with Vercingetorix, so they did not suffer in the same manner as the other Gauls. Now, Caesar called the 7th, 8th and 9th, and despite the fact we knew it was only because we were so far away, this did not sit well with the Legion. We were accustomed to being the Legion that Caesar relied on and now sitting in camp far away, we could not help feeling like this was a slight on our honor. Consequently, I will believe to my dying day that this was when the seed was planted that blossomed a few years later, when the 10th mutinied during the civil war. The one benefit of all this activity was that I was proven right in my prediction, which quieted down Celer and Niger, if only for a bit.