He pointed at the map on the wall.
“Now all of Belgae will take Rome as friend… except Aduatuci. You understand why?”
Sabinus, sitting to one side of the table, nodded.
“I think I understand. The Aduatuci are the last proud Belgae. They know that we are aware of their part in this, and they believe that we will not seek peace, yes?”
Fronto shook his head.
“It’s more than that. The Aduatuci will shun the Belgae now and join the Germanic tribes. They descend from German blood and are as much German as they are Belgae. You’ve eliminated all the Belgic resistance now and I think you can safely say that The Belgae are tamed. You can arrange terms and so on, but the Aduatuci will join with the Germans instead. Problem is: we need to deal with them before they get that chance.”
Caesar shook his head.
“The Aduatuci have abandoned all the forts between here and their home. They’ve retreated to their oppidum. It makes no great matter whether they call themselves Belgae or German, or even Samnite or Greek. The fact remains that they are in no position to resist us now and they know it. Given enough time to see the hopelessness of their position, they will fall before us and ask for peace.”
Fronto glanced across at Galronus who was shaking his head.
“I don’t think so, Caesar.”
“What?”
Fronto tried to heave himself out of his chair, but he was still too weak from the battle and, with only one working arm, he just didn’t have the strength or the leverage. He sighed.
“If the Aduatuci consider themselves basically a Germanic tribe and so do the Germans, there’s a good chance that they will ally with the tribes across the Rhine against us. The Germans have had a problem with us since last year, and I can’t see the Aduatuci having to do much prodding to push those tribes into open war again.”
He looked around the room at the number of officers currently displaying wounds.
“And, given the fact that we just got the living snot kicked out of us and are operating very much below strength, we really can’t afford to have another Ariovistus pop up and decide that Rome’s getting too close to the Rhine again. If they rose against us, there’s still time for them to come west before winter.”
Caesar frowned.
“A worrying possibility, I will concede.”
Fronto shook his head.
“It’s very simple. We’ve got to get to the Aduatuci and take them out of the picture before they involve the Germans.”
The general stood for a time, tapping his finger on his lower lip and finally nodded.
“Agreed. I was hoping this war was finally over, but we have to finish it before it becomes a German matter.”
He looked around at the officers under his command.
“Labienus? I need you to take a force from the army. Not a full legion, as we may need them, but enough cohorts from wherever they can be spared to make half a legion, along with a few scouts and cavalry. Procillus and Mettius, I want you with him. The three of you, with a reasonable force, need to find and deal with the remnants of the Nervii and their allies. Send scouts out to every major oppidum of the Belgae and tell them Caesar calls their leaders to council at…” He paused and examined the map again.
“Nemetocenna is the main oppidum of the Atrebates and very much at the heart of the resisting area so far. Call all the tribes to a council at Nemetocenna by the kalends of September. I am taking the rest of the army as soon as things are settled here to deal with the Aduatuci and we shall aim to return by then.”
Labienus frowned.
“Caesar, is it not more important that you are here to deal with the politics of victory? Any number of us can take the battle to the Aduatuci.”
The general shook his head.
“I have defeated, or allied with, all of the main tribes of the Belgae. When I return to Cisalpine Gaul and then Rome for the winter, I will have it known that Caesar has defeated the greatest of all the peoples of the north. My political enemies will be forced to acknowledge this. How will it look if I leave things incomplete and one of my subordinates fights the final battle for me?”
He looked around the room. Fronto tried very hard to become invisible, as he was sure his face would betray his own opinions on the matter.
“No. I will finish this myself. Labienus, you will send out your scouts and then take your force along with most of the baggage train and all of the wounded and journey to Nemetocenna. When you arrive you will impose Roman law on the oppidum. You will construct not just a temporary camp, but a fortress like those we built in Spain, with defences, high walls and buildings within, rather than tents. Given the location of Nemetocenna at the heart of the Belgae, I want you to make a statement.”
He smiled that hollow and humourless smile once again.
“And, when I return, I shall bring either the head of the Aduatuci, or the head of the head of the Aduatuci!”
He waved his hand dismissively.
“Go about your business, gentlemen. Every healthy man will be forming up under either Labienus or myself and leaving first thing in the morning. Labienus? I will leave you to deal with the post-battle matters. I need to plan.”
The officers hurried out of the tent, Fronto moving as fast as he could to avoid being waylaid by the general. Outside, just out of audible range of the tent, Labienus was grumbling.
“What’s up?”
“Too much to do with too few men. I think we need our own planning meeting.”
He glanced over his shoulder at the various officers marching away down the hill.
“All officers to assemble in the remains of the Nervian camp opposite in ten minutes. Be there, or I’ll find you!”
Fronto laughed.
“Don’t know what you’re giggling about” grumbled the staff officer. “You’re coming too.”
Labienus looked around at the expectant faces of the officers. The walk across the battlefield had not been a pleasant one. Many of the bodies still lay where they had fallen, including some Romans. Here, beyond the opposite ridge, the camp of the Nervii had been cleared of corpses when the men had looted it, but there was still an acrid and sickly-sweet smell that didn’t bear too much thinking about.
However, not only was this sufficiently far away from the headquarters for them to be undisturbed by the general, it was also away from where the men were busy clearing up the worst of the mess.
“Alright, tell me what the situation is. First of all, what’s our total count of healthy regulars?”
Sabinus shrugged and opened the wax tablets he’d brought with him.
“I can break it down for you, but the grand total is now sixteen thousand men fit for active duty out of a strength on paper of almost thirty six thousand.”
Labienus shook his head despairingly.
“Gods! I know we were already under strength to start with, but that means we lost roughly half the army this morning!”
Sabinus nodded silently. Every officer had been keeping himself occupied so as not to think too much on the numbers.
“There are so many dead, along with the auxilia,” Rufus noted quietly, “that they’re being separated into four groups for burning and burial to make it easier for digging the ditches and raising the mounds.”
Sabinus straightened.
“Alright then. I’ll take around three thousand of the men. I’ll draw five centuries from each of the six stronger legions and take the entire Twelfth.” He looked up at Galba. “I’m not meaning to take any glory away from you, my friend, but I rather believe that your men will appreciate the rest.”
The stocky legate nodded.
“I agree entirely. But will you need three thousand? There should be no armies left to raise in the west.”
Labienus nodded.
“Caesar probably hasn’t thought it all out yet, but we’ll have ninety per cent of the wagon train to guard, as he’ll be wanting to travel fast and light. We’ll have all of the wounded, which is a lot, to look after. He wants us to impose ourselves on Nemetocenna, which would be hard to do with a handful of men. He wants us to build a sizeable fortress…”