Caesar frowned.
“I see. They are not aware that we are here only in response to requests from our allies.”
Antebrogius shook his head.
“They are aware of that. They do not believe it, Caesar.”
He sighed and gestured around him.
“Forgive my bluntness, general, but it is clear to all of our peoples that Rome means to take these lands and to make them her own. There is little point in denying it. We are all convinced.”
There was an uncomfortable moment of silence.
“However,” the man went on, “a man of vision looks into the future and takes the path scented with lilies, not the one the cows have shat on.”
He smiled.
“We are in a dangerous position, quite frankly. We are the border people of the Belgae. If we listen to our druids, I am under no illusion that Rome will beat and enslave the Remi first and use our oppida as staging posts to deal with our brethren.”
The smile turned vaguely sad.
“And those with vision can see that Rome will win. Rome will always win.”
Caesar raised an eyebrow and Antebrogius shrugged.
“As I said, I study these things. I have read of your wars with Carthage and in Spain. Of your friend Pompey and his pirates. Rome will always win because Rome does not believe it can lose and a Roman never gives up. One day we will all speak Latin and no one will remember the language of the Belgae.”
He slapped his hand on his chest.
“I can see this, and my people can see it too, even if the druids and the rest of the Belgae cannot.”
He stood.
“So… on behalf of the Remi, I offer our people and our lands to you, general. We have refused the call to stand against you and have made enemies of our brothers. Thus I entreat you to deal with us as allies. We will provide you with information, supplies, food, shelter and even men. In return we ask only that Rome promises to grant its protection to the Remi. What is your answer, Caesar?”
The general smiled.
“Antebrogius, you are a wise man indeed. Though I myself intend to stay in Gaul only to protect our friends and our interests, I would say that you are correct. One day these lands will know the benefits of Roman law and engineering, of that I am sure. And when those days draw closer, it is those who embrace them that will gain the most. I would ask whether you are alone among the Belgae in seeking peace with Rome?”
Antebrogius nodded sadly.
“We tried in council to persuade out neighbours, the Suessiones, to join us. They are part of the same people as the Remi, but there was little support for us among them, and in the end, pride won out and they have sent their warriors to the gathering Belgae. It pains me, but yes; we are alone.”
Caesar’s brow furrowed.
“What can you tell us about this army?”
“The force will be vast, general. Not only all of the other tribes of the Belgae gather, but also many of the Germanic tribes from near the Rhine and even some from across it. Much of the blood of the Belgae is descended from those Germans who settled here generations ago. It is said that it is the fierceness of the German blood, mixed with the cleverness of the Gauls, which makes the Belgae so dangerous.”
“We need more detail, Antebrogius. Numbers, even, if you have them.”
The two chieftains exchanged looks and words quickly in their own language and then Antebrogius turned back to the visitors.
“Our information is a little vague, of course, since we have not been present at the war council. However, we have a slight advantage. Those same Suessiones who we failed to convince of our wisdom have been made the leaders of the gathering host and, through estimates from familial connections, we are able to estimate their numbers at around three hundred thousands of men.”
Fronto realised he’d just whistled through his teeth and clamped his mouth shut. Unprofessional idiot! But still… three hundred thousand warriors. Not a long way from ten-to-one odds. He found himself wondering about the wisdom of the Remi’s decision.
Caesar, however, seemed to have been unfazed by this revelation. He nodded thoughtfully.
“Any details on how that is comprised? Anything we can use?”
Antebrogius nodded.
“The Bellovaci are known as the bravest of all the Belgae, and they have given the most men. Probably around sixty thousand. The Nervii are by far the most warlike. It is they who called for war in the first place. Between them and the Suessiones, they will field around a hundred thousand. Perhaps forty thousand will be Germanic allies. Other than that, smaller numbers from the other tribes.”
Caesar sighed.
“Are any of those smaller tribes likely to be open to persuasion?”
Antebrogius shook his head.
“Not with the Bellovaci, the Nervii and the Suessiones in control.”
Caesar nodded.
“Very well. Here is my offer.”
He leaned forward in a businesslike manner.
“You will supply us with food out of only the excess your tribe can spare. Your chieftains will each levy a number of men to be assigned to our cavalry. It is the custom of Celtic allies to give hostages to one another to promote loyalty. As such, I will require the eldest heir of each chief to be delivered to me. That man will act as our hostage, but will also be assigned to lead his own tribesmen.”
Antebrogius frowned.
“This is a great deal to ask, Caesar.”
“But I am not finished, Antebrogius. Those men will serve with us for this year. After that, we will renegotiate. However, bear in mind that those men will be taught everything we have to teach about war and the army. They will become more powerful than ever before; more powerful than other Belgae war chiefs.”
He smiled.
“Also: In return, we will provide a small garrison to protect each of your settlements during this campaign. These men will be a mixture of professional legionaries and auxiliaries and can teach your people Latin, how to build roads, create aqueducts, and the rudiments of civic defences, as well as providing protection. Think what this could do for the Remi.”
Antebrogius sat back and nodded slowly to himself.
“I see the wisdom in your words, Caesar and, since I speak for the Remi, consider our word given. It may take a little time to explain this to my peers and to gain their agreement. I will visit your camp tomorrow morning, if that is acceptable?”
The general nodded.
“Most acceptable, Antebrogius. I look forward to it.”
He stood and nodded to the officers.
“Gentlemen? I believe we’re done here. Let us return to camp.”
Wordlessly, the Roman commanders followed Caesar’s lead, standing, bowing to the chieftains, and then leaving the hall in single file.
Once they were safely out of audible distance and half way across the square, Fronto caught up with Caesar, checked that none of the other officers were too close, and cleared his throat.
“At the risk of irritating you,” he said quietly, “that was uncharacteristically generous of you?”
A look of surprise passed across Caesar’s face before he settled once more into an unreadable expression.
“Marcus, we are in extremely dangerous territory, facing very heavy odds. What do you expect?”
“But to offer to train them and their leaders? You could be teaching a future enemy how to beat us.”
Caesar shook his head.
“If they help us win this war it’ll be worth it and we’ll have a staunch ally. If we lose, it won’t make any difference to us. We have a huge force arrayed against us, but it’s made up of lots of smaller groups with age-old internecine feuds. We have to widen the cracks until the Belgae shatter. It’s all a matter of playing the odds, Fronto. You’re a gambler. You should know that.”