“Marcus. Anything that might give us an edge could save other lives. Besides, Longinus would have been the first to agree.”
Fronto snorted.
“I suppose so. If you’re going to do it like this, though, do it properly.”
He turned to Varus and Ingenuus.
“Go and find Priscus of the Tenth and get him to send a forage party into the woods. We want thousands of torches making. One for every spectator when we burn Gaius.”
Varus and Ingenuus bowed and, turning, went about their tasks.
Fronto turned round to see Crispus and Caesar look at him.
“We line them all up on the field before the pyre, but also before the German camp. Can you imagine what a sight eight thousand burning torches will be? Shame we haven’t got the rest of the men here.”
Caesar nodded.
“Still, it will be a great send off for Longinus and a sight to behold for Ariovistus. And, in the morning, we will force the man to fight us. If he will not come out, we will go in!”
Chapter 20
(The field before the small fort)
“ Actuarius: Clerks, both civil and military. In the legions, Actuarii existed from the very top command levels, down to century levels, where excused-duty soldiers served in the role.”
The Pyre burned bright on the wall. There was a slight wind disturbing the smoke, though it blew high and away above the soldiers. Two legions and all the attached Auxilia stood before the wall with burning torches held high.
Fronto stood with the two cavalry officers and Crispus, Crassus and Caesar on the platform near the body. He could see Priscus down below in front of the Tenth. The primus pilus was sweating with the heat and the effort of continuously holding the torch high. The rest of the men would be suffering in much the same way. The pyre had only been lit for fifteen minutes, and they would have a long time to go yet.
Fronto wore Longinus’ good dress cloak that had been left to him and Varus bore the good quality Spanish cavalry sword that had been willed to him. The rest of his goods had been packed to send to his family, along with a letter from Fronto, one from Varus and one from Caesar. As a last gesture, before Varus lit the wood of the pyre, he laid his own much-used blade at the commander’s side. Fronto had caused much raising of eyebrows among the command when he brought forth his resplendent red and gold cloak and covered the torso with it.
Now they all burned together. Caesar had made a speech and then Varus had added his own words.
In the silence, broken only by the crackle of burning wood and the spit and hiss of flaming fats, Fronto suddenly put his hand to his brow, shading his eyes from the glare of the fire. Trying not to cause too much alarm, he sidestepped toward Crispus and whispered to him.
“Can you see movement out to the left, beyond the ridge?”
Crispus sheltered his eyes and gazed out.
“Yes. What’s happening?”
Fronto, still squinting, shook his head.
“Don’t know. They’re not Ariovistus’ men, though. They’re moving in legion formation. It must be the rest of the army.”
He glanced up at Caesar to see the General smiling at him.
“Absolutely, Marcus. What a distraction, eh? While the Germans marvel at the bright lights, four legions and thousands of cavalry walk right past them in the darkness.”
Fronto gawped.
“The whole army here? Now?”
“They will walk right around the edge of the field and into your camp. If all goes well, Ariovistus will not know that they’ve even moved. It should throw any tactics he has planned completely out of the window when the entire army forms up here at first light.”
Crispus shook his head.
“The other camp must be occupied or at the very least maintain the illusion of occupation. Otherwise Ariovistus can retreat and occupy our camp.”
Caesar smiled.
“Yes Crispus, I’ve thought of that. There are around four thousand men still there, two cohorts from each legion. They should make a good show of it and, if Ariovistus decides to try and retreat that way there will be a force to prevent him.”
By now a number of the men attending the funeral on the field had noticed the army on the move past them. Fronto looked around at Caesar.
“Best tell them what’s happening.”
Caesar nodded and stepped to the front of the platform. With them on the wall, Varus and Ingenuus wore grim expressions and at the front of the two legions stood their tribunes, twelve in all.
“Tribunes, to the platform.”
With much confusion and apprehension, the twelve men approached the pyre. Once they had struggled up the bank, they came to attention in front of the senior officers. Caesar looked along the line.
“Gentlemen. The figures currently moving along the periphery of the field are your fellows from the Seventh, Eighth, Ninth and Twelfth Legions, along with the rest of the cavalry and auxiliary units. They will enter this camp shortly and will stay out the rest of the night here with you once the pyre burns down. In the morning, we will be moving on Ariovistus and battle will commence. Return to your legions and inform the centurions of this.”
The tribunes and prefects saluted the General, the tribunes with looks of eager anticipation, the two cavalry prefects with grim satisfaction.
“Go now.”
As they made their way down the grassy slope to the troops below, Fronto stepped toward Caesar again.
“Are the other legions properly informed or still in the dark?”
“I sent a courier out to them hours ago. Balbus, Rufus and Galba have had their orders delivered and should have addressed their troops. The pyre should be starting to collapse in less than half an hour. Once that happens, dismiss the troops and send them to their tents. The legates, prefects and primus pilus of each legion will join me in the praetorium for a command briefing. I’m going now to meet the commanders when they reach the camp and give further orders.”
Fronto nodded unhappily. He could understand the tactical advantage of all this, but it seemed dishonourable to use the funeral of a well-respected Roman nobleman to pull the wool over the enemy’s eyes.
Fronto stood side by side with Crispus and Crassus as Caesar left the platform, staring at the burning timbers and the leaping flames now entirely obscuring the body. Ahead of them, spread out across the grass, the men of the legions stood silent, watching the last moments of the commander.
Less than an hour later, the troops had been dismissed for the night and twenty five men sat around the edges of the large tent at the praetorium of the camp. Caesar entered last and walked through the officers to the empty campaign chair.
“I see we’re all here now. Good.”
He looked around. Fronto sat with Balbus and Crispus with Varus and Ingenuus close by. Crassus stood with the staff. The beam of self-satisfied smugness on his face irritated the General and he could see the rift between his senior officers widening by the minute. Something would have to be done to bring Crassus down to the level of everyone else, and yet without provoking his father into withdrawing support. He sighed.
“Very well. Firstly, due to the recent morale problems among the legions and the need to give them as much support as possible, each of my senior staff will be taking a position with the legions and the cavalry tomorrow. No one will stay behind safe and sound.”
There was a general rumble of assent from the officers.
“I will assign my staff after the briefing. They will act as lieutenants for the legions’ current commanders. The cavalry will be split into two wings. Publius Crassus will command the left wing and I will personally command the right.”