"My apologies," Labienus said formally, slightly skeptical of the Aeduan, whom he had last seen several days ago preparing to march his own troops back to Gaul. "You must forgive them. They do not expect to find any of your people this deep in Nervii territory."
"Nor did I expect to be," the chieftain replied.
"In fact, I must ask why it is that that we find you among our retreating enemy?"
"Not among them, General. And I beg to differ with you, it was I who found you, not the other way around."
"Then there is a good explanation for your presence here?"
"An excellent one, general, but unfortunately not one that you or I have time to go into. I come to tell you that the Belgae are playing you with this pursuit. The enemy's main force is over to the east. Fifty thousand Nervii, all warriors, all itching to kill Romans. They've attacked your army's right down by the river and they're sure to wipe them out if you don't turn these troops around and make for the river at the double quick."
"And how do you know this, my lord?" Labienus said. He was suspicious of the Aeduan chieftain, and rightfully so. It was possible that Divitiacus was a traitor. Why else would he be on the Belgic side of the river when he should be hundreds of leagues away from here. He might have been sent by the Belgae to throw off the pursuit, and the very redeployment he was suggesting might allow the fleeing enemy to escape.
Divitiacus seemed somewhat irritated at the questioning. "I know it because I saw it with my own eyes, from up there!" he pointed the axe towards a forest covered hill several miles away. "I've been following the Belgic army, hoping to find an opportunity to pass through their lines and get word to your proconsul. That opportunity never came. But I watched everything. For the last several hours, I've been watching. I saw the Nervii form up in the woods over there opposite the river, saw your legions deploy on the far bank as casually as they might prepare for the next Ludi festival, and then I saw Nervii attack. They are like the sands of the shore, General, there are too many of them. I saw them come out of the swamp and fall on your army's flank. The legions there were near collapse when I left my perch. I saw your standards through the trees and set off at a run across the valley to head you off. The army won't hold long, if it hasn't collapsed already. You must turn back toward the river. They don't have a trout's chance in piss, if you don't."
Labienus glanced at the line of hills hiding the battle from his view. He could ride up there and see for himself, but if the Aeduan was right, every moment wasted was a moment the army might be overwhelmed.
Divitiacus appeared to be growing impatient with his silent deliberations. "If you don't believe me, General, then take me to the proconsul. I know he will listen to me!"
"Caesar is not with us. He went to take charge of the right wing."
"Mother of Lugus!" Divitiacus cursed.
A thought crossed Labienus's mind, only for an instant, but he felt ashamed of it, nonetheless. Were the legions back at the river destroyed and Caesar killed, command of the army would fall to him. He would be out from under that pompous ass's shadow once and for all. He had served so loyally, and for so little recognition, for so long. Time and again he had pulled Caesar out of some blunder brought on by the proconsul's own arrogance, only for Caesar to claim credit for the victory in the reports sent back to Rome. Perhaps this was his chance to be rid of the scheming bastard. With the Ninth and Tenth he could regroup with the rear guard legions, the Thirteenth and Fourteenth, and form the nucleus of a new army, one that would be led by a real general, and only to serve the purposes of the Senate and The People, not his own.
As the guilty thoughts ran through Labienus's mind, he felt the eyes of the impatient Aeduan chieftain boring a hole through him.
Damn the Aeduan dog! Labienus thought.
XXX
The Roman army was about to break, Boduognatus kept telling himself.
Surely, the Romans could not hold against his massed spearmen for much longer. The Viromandui advance against the center of the enemy line had essentially stopped, but his own Nervii on the flank were still advancing. They were still pushing the legions there into an ever tighter line, they were still piercing the Roman ranks, and on several occasions had broken through, only to be beaten off and the line reformed. But the Romans could not hold out forever. It was a simple game of numbers. Still, Boduognatus was uncertain. Something in the back of his mind told him that the battle had turned. There were questions niggling at his thoughts that he had tried to ignore, like why had his troops not yet reached the baggage around the rear? Why did the legions before him seem to suddenly fight with such vigor? Did it have something to do with the thin, pale-skinned officer in the red-plumed helmet and scarlet cloak that he had seen through the storm of swords, dismounting and rushing to the line with a band of howling legionaries following in his wake? Could this be the great Caesar? Surely not. No war chief that had conquered so much and had won so many battles could look so much like a bookkeeper. That's what Boduognatus had thought upon sighting the unimpressive-looking Roman officer. But now, he was not sure.
"My lord," a new messenger from the Viromandui called to the Nervii chieftain. "Our ranks are dwindling. My lord asks if you can send more men."
"Tell your lord, he must press them harder," Boduognatus replied bleakly. "He must hold the center in place. Fight to the last man, if he must, but he must hold a little longer! We must be given time to break them on the flank, or all is lost."
The rider appeared discouraged by that answer, but then ventured to ask. "And of the troops he requests?"
Boduognatus paused before responding. "I have none to send him."
The Viromandui messenger nodded solemnly, and then rode away to carry the bleak message back to his master. Would the Viromandui desert, now? Boduognatus wondered. How much time did he have to turn the tide?
A sudden escalation in the melee before him drew his attention. A band of Nervii nobles, waving bloody swords and battered helmets, had rallied several hundred warriors together into a wedge formation, and were rushing at the angle in the Roman line. It was the weakest spot, and the one place most likely for a breakthrough. It was also the last place Boduognatus had seen the thin Roman officer. The front ranks of legionaries saw the onslaught coming and planted their tattered, axe-hewn shields firmly in the ground. The fighting wedge hit the Roman line like a thunderclap, and with such force, that the frontline Romans were trampled over by the rushing warriors. Swords flashed in rapid succession as the nobles at the head of the wedge hacked the stunned enemy down on right and left. A severed forearm flipped in the air, and small springs of blood issued from gaping wounds.
The wedge had firmly driven itself as far as the second Roman line, and now the warriors turned outward and began attacking the Romans in both directions, ever-widening the gap. Boduognatus saw his nobles, who had so ably led the attack, leave the tip of the wedge and make a rush for the nearest legionary eagle. He wished he were with them, because he would have stopped them. The eagle was of little tactical value, and it was protected by the best men of the legion. He needed them to use their swords to further expand the gap, not waste time and lives pursuing a matter of pride. As he watched, they tried to fight their way to the eagle time and time again, but the small circle of legionaries repulsed every one of their attacks. Soon, so many nobles had fallen to the jabbing gladii that further assaults would have been futile. But the spearmen were faring much better, even after seeing their nobility so thoroughly outdone. They were widening the wedge ever more, many tossing away their spears and hacking at the Romans with the one-handed axes they had taken from their belts. The wider the wedge got, the more warriors entered the formation, and the further the Romans were pushed back.