“Do?” he asked, with an arched eyebrow, his leg propped up on a stack of small blocks covered with a folded cloth for padding. He was still pale, yet looked fit enough considering the circumstances, being able to get around on crutches, which were next to the bed, and I could see that he was enjoying my anxiety. “Why, Pullus, you don’t do anything. That’s the beauty of the job.” He laughed, before continuing, “You don’t think I would ever take a job where you actually have to work, do you? I thought you knew me better than that.”
Clearly enjoying the confused look on my face, he was content to smile and say nothing. Finally I could contain myself no longer. “Pluto’s thorny cock, that doesn’t help me a bit, now does it?” I demanded, irritated that he looked so smug.
“You’ve been watching me do my job for two years,” he chuckled at my guilty expression. “Titus, I know you’ve wanted to do the job, and that’s half the battle right there. I don’t fault you for being ambitious; just because I’m not doesn’t mean that I can’t appreciate it in someone else. You already know what to do because you’ve seen me doing it.”
I felt slightly better, relieved that he did not find fault with my naked desire for promotion. “So, I just do what you did?” I asked, and he nodded then gave a shrug. “It’s really not hard. The only time it was difficult at all was when I had to break you new bastards in, but those days are long gone. Now all you have to do is make sure that nobody tries to take advantage of your friendship and pull things over on you. The only one I can see you've got to worry about is Achilles.”
That was no surprise; I had already anticipated that, and I asked Calienus what I should do in the event that he did try something.
His face turned hard and he said simply, “You beat him so badly that he’ll never even think of trying it again.”
I smiled, thinking that I could do that without any problem. Before I left the hospital I went to see Scribonius, who was lucky in his own right. No foreign matter had gotten pushed into the wound, and it was healing cleanly, although he was not completely out of danger.
“The doctor said that there was a lot of muscle damage, and I’m going to have to build the strength back up. He said it’s going to hurt worse than the original wound did.”
I simply nodded in sympathy, because I had some idea of what he was talking about from the wound I suffered in the ribs back in Hispania. Telling him the latest news and catching him up on the gossip about what took place with the Helvetii, I promised to come back and visit him in the next few days. He congratulated me on my promotion, then bidding him goodbye, I returned to the tent.
It did not take long for Didius to test me, but I was ready for him, and I gave him a good thrashing that left him with a lot of bruises and a swollen face.
“You know, it would seem that you’d learn after this many beatings,” Romulus remarked the night after our confrontation as we sat around the fire, eating our evening meal.
Didius pretended not to hear, yet I could see by the red creeping up his face that the remark had hit home. Despite my loathing of Didius, some inner voice of caution kept me from going too far in humiliating him, and I kept my peace, also pretending not to pay attention as I sewed up a hole in my tunic.
“That’s true Romulus,” this came from Vellusius, who was sprawled out close to the fire, idly throwing sticks into it. “But Achilles is one of those people who just don’t seem to learn from their mistakes. Ain’t that right Achilles?”
“Shut your mouths, both of you,” Didius snarled. “Or by Dis, I’ll…….”
I did not allow him to finish, speaking up before anything else could take place. “Didius is right,” I said, refusing to look up from my sewing job, “you two need to keep your mouths shut. This is between Didius and me, and nobody else. I don’t want to hear you mention it again.”
Both men had a look of astonishment on their face at my rebuke, Vellusius flushing then opening his mouth to speak before shutting it and looking away angrily. I knew my words had surprised and hurt them, yet I also realized that I could not even have the appearance of playing favorites, especially since if it were the other way around I would have told Didius to shut his mouth in the same way. My hope was that at least Didius noticed this, and that perhaps it might go a small way to change his attitude towards me and his comrades, though it was a vain hope.
Larger events were taking place that dwarfed our own little contest of wills. At the meeting of all the Gallic chiefs, a number of them asked for a private audience with Caesar, which he granted. Acting as their spokesman, Diviciacus, the Vergobret of the Aedui, told Caesar of the peril that not just the Aedui, but other Gallic tribes such as the Sequani were facing from a German named Ariovistus. It seemed that the Aedui had asked Ariovistus for help in besting their most bitter rival, a tribe called the Arverni, which Ariovistus and his men did. However, when it was time for Ariovistus and his army to go back across the Rhenus, they apparently decided that the fertile farmlands of Gaul were more to their liking, and in short work, subjected the Aedui and their allies the Sequani. This Ariovistus then set himself up as a petty king, demanding tribute and hostages from the tribes, and it was under the fear of death and destruction that Diviciacus came to Caesar asking for help. What complicated matters was that Ariovistus, like the Aedui and Sequani, had been awarded the status of friend of Rome, so it was in this spirit that Caesar first communicated to Ariovistus, politely asking him to meet in order to discuss the dispute.
Apparently, Ariovistus held no such inclination, and although it was not until I read Caesar’s account years later that I learned exactly what took place, all we knew at the time was that Ariovistus had been very insulting, not just to Caesar but to Rome, and more importantly to us, the Legions. He made it clear that he did not think much of our army, nor our skills in battle, despite what we did to the Helvetii, and it was not long before word began circulating that we were going to head for a confrontation with this Ariovistus. Orders were given to repair all gear, replenish our stock of javelins and draw marching rations, because we would be on the move in a matter of a couple of days.
Chapter 6- Ariovistus
We were ordered out of the camp and on the march exactly two days after the rumor circulated; it is an interesting thing about the way this gossip circulates throughout an army. Any rumor is considered to be as close to fact as one can get, and when questioned, the man passing it along will always bring up past examples that had come true. However, somehow we all tended to forget the ones that did not turn out the same way and thinking back on it, I realize that for every one that turned out to be the truth, or close to it, there were probably five that were completely off the mark. Yet we always seemed to forget those, instead only remembering the times where someone passed along a piece of information that turned out to be accurate. Accordingly, we had an idea of what was in store, although it would turn out that in this campaign, rumors would almost undo us. Marching northeast, we headed back towards the town of Vesontio, which Caesar learned was in the plans of Ariovistus to appropriate. Since it contained supplies and weapons, it was strategically vital that we not only keep Ariovistus from seizing it but take it for our own needs. All of this we were happily ignorant about, knowing only that we were marching at Caesar’s usual cracking pace, while he sent word ahead for the Aedui, Sequani and the Lingones to supply us with food as we marched so that we could travel more lightly, and he had us marching well after dark, forcing us to construct camp under trying conditions. It was in this way that we arrived in Vesontio in the middle of the third day, having covered a hundred miles of open territory in little more than two and a half days. Needless to say, we were all exhausted, but Caesar could not spare us the rest, having a camp to construct, which we built on the outskirts of the town. Vesontio is an eminently defensible position, and it was easy to see why Caesar thought it was so important. Nestled in a loop of the Dubis (Doubs) River, it is surrounded on three sides by water, while the narrow neck of land connecting it to the rest of the area is not much more than 500 paces wide. Guarding the neck is a low hill, where a wall of stone is built protecting the town itself. It was just outside of this wall where our camp was built, situated in such a way that we could easily leave the camp to man the wall in the event of an attack, there not being enough space for our camp in the space between that wall and those of the town. It was thrown up with our usual speed, though also with the same thoroughness and exacting standards that Caesar had come to expect from us. While we were busy with our constructing, he sent a Legion into the town itself to provide a garrison, this being the start of our problems. I will not mention the number of the Legion, since their actions caused us considerable embarrassment, only saying that it was not the 10th. We were part of the force building the camp, and played no part in what was to happen.