“The rest of your beloved fans are here to see you. They’re heading this way like a herd of cattle.”
He looked out of the tent again and grinned.
“Well… like a herd of drunken cattle, anyway.”
He stepped out of the tent and to one side as Balbus, Longinus, Crispus, Galba and Sabinus came barrelling through the open doorway. Each of them was laden. Balbus, Longinus and Galba carried jars of wine and bowls of pastries, Crispus carried dice and a game board, and Sabinus a small wooden box.
“Hail the conquering hero.”
Balbus slumped gratefully into a chair next to the bed.
“I see Priscus has been keeping the seat warm for me.”
He turned to face the door again.
“You’re not going are you, centurion? The fun’s only just starting. We’ve food and wine and games to entertain the invalid.”
Priscus looked in through the tent flaps.
“Much as I’d love to join you, gentlemen, I’ve got to go see the General.”
Balbus shrugged. The others had taken various places around the bed.
“What’s he going to see Caesar about?”
Galba prodded Fronto in the leg from his seated position on a cushion on the floor.
“Never mind. Time for you to relax.”
Fronto looked around. He was surprised to find Sabinus in the company of the legates. In the short time Fronto had been serving with the general staff, Sabinus had rarely exchanged a word with Fronto, and hadn’t spoken at all to the other legates.
“Sabinus. What brings you here with this motley bunch? Doesn’t Caesar need you at headquarters?”
The staff officer smiled at him.
“Just making a delivery and renewing an acquaintance Fronto.”
He reached out with the small wooden box and dropped it gently in Fronto’s lap.
Fronto stared at the box. It was heavy.
“Well, open it.”
Fronto looked up, suspiciously.
“You don’t know this lot, Sabinus. This could contain a scorpion or a turd for all I know.”
Sabinus grinned.
“This hasn’t been anywhere near any of them. Open it.”
Fronto released the catch and swung the lid up. A pile of coins of different denominations glinted within. He looked up questioningly at Sabinus, who nodded at the box.
“Winnings. In actual fact, a share of winnings. A number of soldiers throughout the legions made an awful lot of money out of our Aedui guests by betting on you. The soldiers in the Tenth all chipped in and sent a quarter of the winnings to you.”
Fronto boggled at the box.
“There’s a hell of a lot in there. It’s about a year’s wages for a legionary.”
“Yes. Spend it wisely.” Sabinus and Galba shared a glance. “I would suggest wine, women and song.”
“Well,” Fronto gestured with his good arm, “you’ve brought the wine, I can provide the song. Who’s going to bring me women?”
* * * * *
Priscus jogged down the slope from the headquarters tent to the makeshift hospital. Fronto was sitting, as usual, outside the tent in the warm, late afternoon air, scratching irritably at the dressing on his arm. A large jug of wine and a cup sat on the grass next to him. Occasionally a medic would walk past and ‘tut’ meaningfully at him.
He looked up as a shadow fell across his knees.
“Nice day, Gnaeus. I could get used to this.”
Priscus stopped and leaned on the tent frame for a minute, regaining his breath.
“Don’t… don’t get too used to it. Things are happening.”
Fronto raised an eyebrow.
“The Helvetii?”
Priscus nodded.
“Caesar’s scouts told him that the ascent on the hill should be easy, so Caesar’s decided we’ll go deal with them.”
Fronto smiled and took a swig from the wine.
“Sounds good. I’ll have to have a little word with the doc.”
Priscus shook his head.
“No need. Caesar’s sent your orders.” He gestured with a scroll in his hand. “I’m to give these to the doctor. You’re to dress formally, but without armour, and report to the general staff as soon as you can.”
“What’s the situation, Gnaeus? I can’t go lumbering in without a clue.”
Priscus waved the scroll at a doctor and beckoned him as he spoke.
“Caesar’s sent Labienus in command of the Eighth and the Eleventh to take the high ground above the Helvetii. We’re following up a few hours behind them. This entire hospital unit’s going to be mobilised with the army. The whole camp’s being emptied.”
Fronto smiled.
“It’s been nice being in camp for a few days again, but I suppose we had to move on sometime. At least we might get to deal with the Helvetii for good this time.”
As Priscus went through Caesar’s orders with the doctor, Fronto began gathering up the meagre possessions he had brought to the medical tent. As he left the tent with a single armful of gear, he motioned back inside.
“Gnaeus, could you grab the rest of my stuff for me?”
Priscus nodded, entering the tent and returning with the rest of the legate’s gear in his arms.
“Now let’s go and get you ready so that you can present yourself to Caesar.”
A quarter of an hour later the two officers left Fronto’s tent, Fronto wearing a standard red military tunic and breeches, a cloak thrown over the back to add a little official weight to the ensemble.
Caesar’s command tent was busy. Sabinus stood by the door, deep in conversation with Crassus. He waved a greeting to Fronto as he approached.
Fronto smiled a fixed smile. Sabinus was turning out to be a good man, against all expectations. He still wasn’t sure he liked Crassus though, and he was beginning to form a suspicion that the young man coveted the command of the Tenth. He had begun making noises about the lack of a full-time legate recently, and Priscus had complained about the close attention the young legate had paid the Tenth on their march from Vienna. He would be one to watch, but not to cross lightly, with his father being one of Caesar’s sponsors and one of the more powerful men in Rome. He forced himself to continue smiling.
“Afternoon lads. How’s tricks?”
Crassus made a gesture to indicate that he was bored. Sabinus just sighed.
“Busy as always. We’re all being run ragged to prepare for the off. How’s the arm?”
Fronto shrugged, and winced at the pain the ill-thought out manoeuvre produced.
“I’ll live.”
“Good,” replied Caesar as he stepped through the tent doorway.
“Fronto. I want you with us on the staff in an advisory role for now. I can’t have you charging off and trying to conquer Gaul single handed. You’re convalescing, and I had to argue very hard with the surgeons to get you permission to ride a horse. On no account are you to leave the colour party.”
Fronto nodded to the General.
“Yes sir. Have the cavalry been mobilised yet?”
Caesar raised a hand to shelter his eyes as he gazed into the distance.
“You can still see Longinus and his men on the ridge over there if you strain your eyes. They’ll be moving a little ahead of us as we march.”
Fronto thought for a moment.
“We are presuming here that Labienus has been successful. If not, the cavalry will be unable to deal with anything they might find. Have you given thought to scouts?”
Caesar sighed.
“I want you here in an advisory role, but you don’t need to mother me quite this much, Marcus. Yes, I’ve sent out Publius Considius with the scouting party.”
Fronto frowned.
The general drew himself up to his full height and placed his hands crossly on his hips.
“What now?”
“I know that Considius is a member of the staff, Caesar, but I rather thought that was more as a reward for past deeds than for his active military usefulness.”
Caesar bridled.
“Be careful what you say, Fronto. He has considerable seniority over you.”