“Longinus, I think you’re wanted.”
Longinus turned to look at Fronto and noticed the cavalry trooper. He swung around on the bench to face the young man.
“Soldier, you can stand at ease. The entire army is off duty, and that includes you.”
The soldier gave a nervous nod but made no move to relax. He cleared his throat again anxiously.
“Sir, I beg your indulgence, but I have bad news to report. The duty stable hand in our ala didn’t show up for his stretch this afternoon, sir. Prefect Aemilius ran a head count to see if he was missing, and the count came up eight men short. It looks like we’ve had deserters, sir. When we checked, their horses and all their pack and equipment had disappeared.”
Fronto looked at Balbus and Longinus.
“Sounds serious.”
Longinus shot a warning glance at Fronto before turning back to the cavalry trooper.
“Very well, soldier. Send Aemilius to me. I want a word with him.”
“Sir!” The trooper pulled himself even further to attention and, turning smartly, jogged off down the main street toward the city gate.
Fronto narrowed his eyes at Longinus.
“Alright. What’s going on?”
“I beg your pardon?”
Longinus met his gaze with eyes full of innocence.
Fronto slapped his palm on the table, then winced as the shockwave coursed through his still tender arm.
“You showed absolutely no surprise when that soldier warned you of deserters. You may be a fair officer, but you’re a terrible liar. Now, what’s going on?”
Longinus glared at Fronto a moment longer, and then gestured with his thumb to a table in a rear corner of the garden beneath a huge oak tree.
“If we’re going to have this discussion, let’s go over there.”
As Fronto, grumbling, moved to the other seat carrying his cup and a jug of wine, Balbus followed suit. Longinus instead made his way inside. Fronto heard a short, hushed conversation with the innkeeper and a moment later the staff of the tavern were standing by the gate, out of earshot and blocking the entrance.
Longinus collected his drink and joined them at the rear table.
“Thanks a lot Marcus, you just cost me a packet to buy us a little privacy.”
Fronto shrugged, wincing with the pain of the movement.
“Learn to be a better liar. It’ll cost you less.”
The cavalry commander frowned at him and lowered his voice to a hushed whisper.
“I’m well aware of the deserters, yes. In fact I sent them off myself, early this morning on the orders of Caesar.”
Balbus perked up a little at this.
“Why is Caesar having you fake desertions?”
Fronto grinned.
“I think I can answer that, Quintus. And I think if you work it through yourself, you can too.”
Balbus closed his eyes for a moment.
“Misinformation you think?”
Fronto smiled again.
“That’s why we’re off duty and we haven’t made a fortified camp. That’s why Caesar won’t tell me when we’re moving again. He has no intention of moving from Bibracte at all.”
Longinus nodded.
“We’d have had to move at a hell of a pace to catch up with the Helvetii after our detour here to collect the corn. We can’t catch them, so the general’s arranging for them to come to us. We’ll only have to move to one of the surrounding hills for favourable ground.”
Balbus slowly began to grin now.
“These ‘deserters’ then must be telling the Helvetii that we’ve left off the pursuit and turned round; that we’re running. Why would we do that? What possible cause?”
Longinus clicked his tongue.
“Think, lads. We’re cut off from our supply line now, the corn from the Aedui hasn’t been forthcoming, and the Helvetii don’t know we’ve found the traitors among our allies. They have every reason to believe we’re heading back to the Saone.”
Fronto banged his fist on the table again, wincing once more. He seemed totally unable to consider the consequences of any course of action on his wounds. His voice was getting louder as the excitement grew in him.
“I’ll bet Caesar has scouts out over at least a five mile radius, waiting for the Helvetii to turn up. That’s why we’re not fortified. Caesar wants the entire army to be easy to manoeuvre when the enemy appear. It all makes sense.”
He became aware that Longinus and Balbus were waving their hands, gesturing Fronto to lower his voice, and shushing him.
Fronto was grinning like a maniac. In a lower voice, he continued.
“We’ll be here for a few days, then. The army’ll be on standby from tomorrow, but we’ll still be here. Boys, I think we can relax for a bit. No more chasing the buggers. Now we just have to wait for them.”
Balbus smiled and nodded. Longinus rose from the seat and went to the gate to thank the innkeeper for his discretion. When he returned, he spoke to the others again.
“Needless to say, you can’t breathe a word of this. Caesar doesn’t want any cock-ups, and it’ll be at least tomorrow morning before we’ll have confirmation that it’s worked. Until then, this is top secret.”
The two legates nodded seriously, though the smiles continued to creep across them when they lowered their faces to drink again.
As Fronto glanced toward the street, he saw Sabinus travelling back up, with a labourer carrying four empty sacks. The staff officer looked over at the legates. Fronto waved happily again, and Sabinus muttered something under his breath, flicking an uncivil gesture at the lounging officers.
Fronto smiled.
“I quite like that Sabinus, you know. For a senior staff officer, he’s not altogether a pointless upper-class twit.”
Longinus smirked.
“Unlike you, of course.”
Balbus roared with laughter as the smile fell from Fronto’s face. He picked up his drinking mug, examined it, and dropped it quite heavily on Longinus’ knuckles where they lay flat on the table.
“Oops.”
Longinus muttered something unflattering concerning Fronto’s lineage and blew on his knuckles.
“Bastard.”
Fronto smiled.
“That’s right; I’m a humourless bastard, not an upper-class twit.”
Balbus picked up the fallen mug and set it upright, examining it briefly for cracks. Satisfied it was unbroken, he filled it to the brim, emptying the last few drops into Longinus’ mug before he set it down. Leaning round the corner, he called the innkeeper for more wine.
“I know we’ve not been in the field long since I was stationed more-or-less permanently at Massilia and Geneva, but for some reason I’m enjoying this off-duty more than I ever enjoyed it in either of those places.”
Fronto lifted his mug and toasted Balbus.
“I’ll say.”
For a moment a sad look crossed the older legate’s face. “Apart from Corvinia. I do miss her.”
“Ah, but think of what’ll be waiting the conquering hero when you next see her, eh?”
Fronto winked lewdly at Balbus.
Longinus smiled. The sun rained down in shafts between the leaves. Birdsong filled the air above the ringing of blacksmith’s tools across the street, and all was right with the world for a short time.
* * * * *
Fronto awoke from his comfortable, warm sleep with a start. Someone was shaking him.
“Mwahhh?”
“I said wake up, sir. You’ll want to see this.”
Fronto opened his eyes, blearily. The face of Priscus swam into view.
“Piss off Gnaeus, there’s a good chap.”
Priscus continued to shake him.
“Honestly sir, you’re going to really want to see this.”
Finally, way beyond hope of sleep, Fronto used his good arm to grasp Priscus’ elbow and pull himself upright.
“Alright. Find my tunic and let’s go and see what the hoo-hah’s about.”