Текст книги "Swords of Rome"

Автор книги: Christopher Buckner

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CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Gaius stood in the rear, surrounded on each side by a collection of officers: five optios and five centurions, as well as a tribune and a single prefect. All were in Valerius’ command tent, where he had summoned his commanders to assemble. He watched carefully to the men as they spoke among themselves and to Valerius. By now, everyone in Rome was aware of the fate of Scipio’s legion, and the auxiliaries sent north to stop Hannibal.

Rumors spread quickly through the city. Some said that Hannibal was marching on Rome, while others still stated that Scipio was alive somewhere, wounded but still breathing. More extreme gossip implied that along with Hannibal’s attack in the north, Carthage had landed an expedition force in the south, which moved to link with Hannibal and his barbarian hordes, which were in the process of ravaging the countryside, hoping to starve or panic Rome into submission.

The only truth that mattered to Gaius at the moment is that a Roman legion under the command of a decorated officer was soundly defeated on the field. With this knowledge, Gaius like the rest of his fellow officers wanted to know what the Sixth Legion was going to do – would the Senate finally call the rest north?

Finally, the flap to the tent was pulled back where sunlight filled the interior for a moment as all eyes turned; their voices falling silent as Valerius entered and stood before his officers.

Valerius took a deep breath once he was certain all eyes and ears were fixed on him. “Consul Scipio is dead,” he spoke. A moan filled the space that occupied the gathering officers, which was quickly followed by a chorus of questions.

Valerius raised his hand, silencing them.

“Early reports indicate that at least twenty-three hundred men are dead, missing or wounded, not counting those that deserted Scipio’s legion before its return to Rome. Most of the legion commanders, including Scipio, were killed, or are also missing. The Senate has not received any ransom demands for captives – “

“Because, they’re all fucking dead and likely put the bloody sword by those savages!” Centurion Marco cried out, interrupting Valerius’ report. His statement was supported by all the officers in the tent as they jeered their frustration.

“And what is the bloody Senate going to do this time? Sit on their collective asses, and wait for Hannibal and his horde to encircle Rome?” Tribune Titus demanded to know.

Valerius raised his hands once more as a wave of angry roars drowned his words before he could utter a single word.

“I have just come from a special session of the Senate. Newly appointed Consul Titus Sempronius Longus has pledged to the soldiers of Rome, and its people that he will not let the atrocities in the north go unpunished. He has dedicated himself to lead a larger force, which is to march by the week's end.” Valerius paused for a moment as his men soaked up the building anticipation of what they hoped he was going to say next. “And I'm grateful to tell each of you that the Sixth Legion will once again mark its name in the history of our Republic, with another victory, once Hannibal and his rogue army is crushed beneath our heels!”

Valerius’ words brought a wave of cheerful excitement that echoed beyond the walls of the command tent, as his officers bellowed with glee at the prospects of avenging their falling brothers, and taking part in the coming campaign to punish Hannibal for crossing iron with the Republic.

Gaius cheered, but he was more reserved than they. He had never seen battle no less took part in one, and commanded men – eighty souls whose very lives rested on his decisions.

“Listen!” Valerius cried as he raised his hands once again, signaling for his men to be still while he continued. “While I have already dispatched riders to send word for the rest of the Sixth to march north, the consul will be moving from Rome before our brothers can join us.”

“More glory for us then!” Cried one of the older centurions, a man Gaius barely knew by the name of Sempronius.

Valerius laughed as he spoke again. “Now, it isn’t all good news. Since we are under-strength, we will be charged with guarding the auxiliary cohorts.”

A chorus of moans erupted from the officers.

“So,” Valerius continued once the groaning from his men subsided. “I’m afraid we will be babysitting the rear, at least until we draw Hannibal out for a fight. I do, however,” Valerius raised his finger high into the air, “promise plenty of glory for you when the battle comes. So, I want each century to be prepared. Make sure your men are kitted, feed and eager when the word comes from the consul. If he is wise, he will wait for the rest of the Sixth, and other legions to arrive before going north, but politicians, I’m afraid, aren’t known for their keen intellect.”

The wave of laughter brought a smile to Valerius’ face as his men’s excitement for the coming campaign was as he hoped.

“Alright then, what are you waiting for, Hannibal to come to us? Get out there and make sure the cohort is ready – dismissed!” Valerius gave his final order as each officer, beaming with joy turned and stepped from the tent, save for Gaius, who Valerius called before he left with his fellow officers.

Gaius stood at attention as he watched Valerius moved around his desk and sat down, where he ironed his fingers together, staring up at him with a displeased expression that sent shivers up Gaius’ spine.

“You have not been in the camp much, have you?” Valerius asked, his question sounding more like a statement of fact than a query.

“I apologies, sir, I have been – “

“Preoccupied with the daughter of one of Rome’s leading senators,” Valerius interrupted, filling in Gaius’ words.

Gaius stood frozen, trying as hard as he could to think of something that might excuse him, but he knew it was best that he not bother trying to cover his ass.

“Yes, sir. Julia is her name. You met her once, ten years ago.”

“I don’t give a damn who she is, Centurion!” Valerius shouted as he rose to his feet. His voice was colder than Gaius had ever heard him speak before.

“Do you know who her soon-to-be-husband is?” Valerius demanded.

“Yes sir, I have met him,” Gaius replied with a heavy heart. The lump in his throat felt like an apple trying to expel itself.

“Well, I will assume you are unaware of who he is, but if not, let me tell you: he is one, if not the most powerful man in Rome. His family alone holds more weight in the Senate than any hundred men. And his wealth could buy ten legions if he so wanted. We need him to win this war, regardless of what that twit consul thinks – this conflict will not end with Hannibal’s demise. So, I would very much not like to see Paullus preoccupied with having to hunt you down and impaling that pretty young head of yours on a pike, because one of my best officers couldn’t keep his cock in his pants, sleeping with a man’s betrothed!”

“I love her, sir!” Gaius blurted, falling from his careful attention stance, as he momentarily forgot his place and whom he was speaking to. “But" Gaius began again before Valerius could respond to his statement. “I’m not ignorant about the facts, sir, despite what you might think. I do not plan to see her further, romantically, which was decided before current events unfolded.” It was painfully hard for Gaius to say his last sentence. He loved Julia with all his heart, and it pained him more than anything to think of telling her what he had just said to Valerius.

Valerius took a deep breath as he sat down. His expression changed as he looked up at his young pupil with concern.

“I do not envy your position, Gaius. I know you love this girl. I know what she has meant to you over the past ten years, since I took you away from your home. However, I know too what Rome is like. In a better world, there would be nothing standing between your happiness. Nevertheless, this isn’t an immaculate world, or is it a flawless system, and unfortunately, people born into your class vs. hers; there is very little room for love.”

“I understood, sir,” Gaius replied with a heavy heart as his head sunk lower.

“I wish you did understand, but you will. Both of you are very young and stupid,” Valerius smirked at his idiosyncratic comment, as he was lost in his own youth for a moment. “I do not pretend to know what the future might have in store for the two of you, but I do know what the present demands, and she isn’t part of it. Your place is here, with me, with your men. No matter what might happen in the coming campaign, you cannot forget the oath you took to serve and defend the people of Rome. Victory or defeat, this war won’t be over as quickly as the politicians want the plebs to think. I need you levelheaded and ready to carry my banner onto the field. Are you prepared for that, Gaius?”

Gaius straightened himself to full attention as he answered, “I am, sir!”

“Then make ready your men. And Gaius, do not let me down.”

Outside, Gaius stopped before Valerius’ tent and took a deep breath. He felt like he had been holding his breath the entire time. He knew his mentor’s words were truthful and only spoken out of love and concern. Regardless, his words ran deep, piercing flesh like knives.

Gaius knew what he had to do – what he was ordered to do, but that didn’t mean he wanted to do it.

For the first time, just for an instant, he wished this wasn’t his life. He wished he hadn’t taken the oath. Even now the thought of fleeing with Julia, as she had suggested ran through his mind. Certainly, she would be safer elsewhere then here, if the war turned against Rome’s favor. They could be together and create some kind of life somewhere far from their responsibilities. However, those thoughts were fleeting as Gaius knew what had to be done.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Gaius stood nervously in the garden as he stared down at what had been a rose bed, which was now bare, as frost covered the weathered vines that wouldn’t bloom again for months. It was bitter cold as a harsh winter storm had rolled across the countryside in the days following Scipio’s defeat. Since then, a new army was assembled. It would be commanded by another seasoned veteran of the previous war with Carthage, Co-Consul Sempronius, who was determined to win himself a great victory; elections were coming in a few weeks, so he hastily readied twenty-five thousand men of arms to respond to the incursion.

Nevertheless, Gaius’ mind was elsewhere since his talk with Valerius. He had to make a choice, as he ran through his head all the possible things, he could say to Julia to ease what needed to be said.

Gaius reached down and touched the last blooming rose. The petals were a dark shade of red, almost black, as the final vestiges of life were seeping out from the flower. Two petals fell effortlessly from his gentle touch, drifting slowly to the ground before they were eventually captured by a brisk wind, which carried away more withered flowers into the gloomy sky.

“Gaius?” Julia called.

He turned slowly to meet her.

As usual, she took his breath away. In the mid afternoon sun, even with the cold and grey skies, she was perfectly captured by the sun’s warming gaze.

She wore a long fur coat, which she had just put on before stepping outside from the warmth of her home. Underneath, Gaius could see a blue gown with a low neckline, showing the expensive jewels that adorned her neck, before she pulled the high collar up and tightened it.

“What are you doing here?” she asked as she rushed over to him, taking both of his hands in hers as she spoke more softly, “I wasn’t’ expecting to see you until tomorrow morning.”

“I had to come today and tell you – “Gaius fumbled for the words for just a moment, captivated by her large dark eyes, which stared up at him eagerly.

“What is it?” Her voice shook as she seemed to dread the reason for his sudden visit.

Gaius glanced behind Julia, seeing only a few slaves as they walked back and forth inside, going about their work.

Julia looked back as well, but quickly turned her gaze to Gaius and asked again, “What is it, my love? Speak to me.”

“This…” Gaius struggled as he pulled away from her.

“ This, what?” she questioned with worried expression.

“ Us, Julia, we can’t keep doing this! As much as it pains me, I can’t see you anymore this way.” Gaius spoke quietly, still afraid that someone might be near enough to overhear. “We cannot continue to live in this fantasy, this fiction we’ve created for ourselves.”

Tears formed in Julia’s eyes as she stepped closer to him, but he held out his arms, keeping her at a distance as if her touch would force him to change his mind and resend his hurtful words.

“I love you, Gaius, and you love me,” she pleaded.

“It is not a question of love, Julia. I love you more than you could possibly know. I would do anything for you; face any punishment or torment, whatever it took to keep you safe. I promised I would protect you, and I will never resent that oath. However, we can’t be anything more than friends. The world simply doesn’t work the way we want it to.”

“Gaius – “Julia uttered painfully as she tuned from him, unable to control her tears. She was ashamed to let him see her this way, so she covered her face with her hands and tried to finish what she wanted to say.

“I do not love Paullus. I do not care why my father has arranged my marriage with him. I will refuse it and confess my love for you. He will understand, they both will,” she cried out, not carrying who overheard her, but even her own words did not sound certain as Gaius stepped closer, forcing her to turn and face him.

“Neither of us can afford to be so naive, Julia. We have too much to lose.”

“I do not care about all of this,” she cried as she flung her hands out.

Gaius took Julia’s hands and held them in his as he spoke quietly.

“It is not your wealth or my position that we stand to lose,” he told her.

Julia’s tear-filled eyes opened wide with the sudden realization of what he implied.

“My father would never…”

Gaius shook his head.

“Perhaps, or possibly not, but no matter, we have betrayed his trust. Even if he took no stand against us, Paullus would, and if it wasn’t our lives that he demanded for the embarrassment, he could hold your father accountable for betraying his word in promising his daughter to him. He could ruin your whole family.”

Julia tried, wanted to rebuke him. She desired to insist that Paullus was not that kind of man, but Gaius didn’t have to know him intimately to understand that Paullus cared for her deeply.

Gaius wondered if the arrangement in taking Julia’s hand in marriage wasn’t just a play to join two powerful families. Perhaps the man actually loved Julia as much as he. A man like that could be unpredictable, most of all a man who had the means to reshape Rome, no less the lives of two individuals.

“I do not like this, Julia. I do not wish this. I want you. I want you by my side, for as long as I live. I wish we were different people, not obligated by our duties, to even be slaves, perhaps, free to love one another without reserve. However, it isn’t so. Our world and our place in it, is not that simple.”

Gaius reached for Julia, taken hold of her as she lowered her head, resting it against his chest.

“I will love you forever, for as long as I draw breath. My heart will always beat for you and you alone. Nevertheless, I cannot give you anything more.” Those were the last words Gaius spoke to Julia, as she pulled away from him.

He watched her as she stepped through the threshold and back into her house. She turned only once; tears filling her eyes as she looked out to him. He wanted to say more, but there was nothing else to be said. Nothing could ease the suffering that they were both going through, so he left her, wondering if he would ever see her again…if she would forgive him?

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Snow drifted in thick clumps between the Roman lines, which advanced along the banks of the nearly frozen Trebia River. Even with the bitter cold and long marches, Gaius’ thoughts continued to drift back to Julia, and the last day he saw her, now six weeks past. He doubted the memories of that day would ever leave his troubled mind – how he wished he could have had a second chance to speak different words to Julia, to make her understand that he wasn’t abandoning her, or that he didn’t love her with all his heart, but what had been said was done, and nothing could remove the stain.

Gaius was now occupied by the duties he had been trained to carry out. However, unlike the rest of his cohort, who were excited by be given the chance to avenge their falling brothers, he felt like a corpse, still breathing, but dead inside. The joy and anticipation of the coming battle did not echo in his heart. However, for weeks now, Hannibal continued to elude his pursuers despite attempts to draw him out into a pitched battle. The legions under the command of Consul Sempronius were close to him, nipping at Hannibal’s heels, but with their numbers, superior to the Carthaginians, the legions move slower, allowing the barbarian rogue to stay one step ahead of Sempronius.

Sempronius’ legions marched from one burnt-out settlement to another, engaging stray units, mostly Hannibal’s Gallic allies who were more interested in plunder than warfare. However, Hannibal’s seasoned troops – his Carthaginian, Spanish and Numidian allies remained hidden, utilizing the trees and worsening weather as cover. This frustrated the legions, which were growing tired and complacent, most of all the impulsive Sempronius; and now the bitter cold nights were beginning to sap the legions' fighting spirit.

Gaius watched the army arrayed far ahead of him. He feared Sempronius’ eagerness to end the war might be a price too high to pay if things kept going the way they were, a sentiment shared by many officers.

As Gaius marched in the rear of the Roman formation, which moved slowly down the embankment of the Trebia River, his mind still drifted back to Julia. He knew it was wrong to continue to think about her, so he struggled to keep focused with each step he took.

A lingering fantasy played in Gaius’ mind that he could win enough honors in the coming battle he could go back to Rome and demand Varro present Julia to him as a prize, much like his own father won his mother in the previous war with Carthage. However, that fantasy was an illusion, which angered him and made his already cold and restless nights all the more tiresome. It affected his duties as he was quick to anger, snapping at his men when their discipline lapsed for only a moment. He did not like the person that these feelings created. He did not know how to deal with them, but he soldiered on, nonetheless, hoping the pain would go away.

Gaius’ thoughts returned to the reality as his foot kicked over a small stone that rolled down into the cold water.

The pace was unbearably slow, made worse by the snow that blinded the army’s advance. Ahead, Gaius could see through the fog the main formation of Sempronius’ lines. They were only two men across, not ideal for a quick defensive formation if an attack should come from the trees. There was no other choice as the riverbank and the sloping hills, surrounded by thick forest, had forced the legion to travel in a long line.

Gaius glanced over his shoulder, seeing Valerius, who rode on horseback a few paces behind. His old mentor did not look happy. Gaius had never seen him more on the edge as he silently cursed Sempronius’ impatience, despite his warnings that legions should not advance in this manner.

Earlier in the morning the consul summoned all his senior officers to his tent. The legions had been attacked daily since it had camped some miles from their current position days before as Hannibal’s dark-skinned horsemen continued to harass the army’s extensive supply lines, and each time Sempronius sent out his cavalry to confront the Numidians, they broke and retreated. This frustrated the consul to no end. Now, Sempronius was driven by madness as he was determined to find Hannibal and crush his ragged army once and for all, even if it put his whole army at risk.

Gaius knew the moment that he laid eyes on Sempronius this morning that the mad was deathly sick, and clearly not thinking straight. He was running a high fever; however, that fact did not stop him from planning his next move despite the urging of Valerius and a number of other legates.

Sempronius wanted, needed to confront Hannibal, not for the sake of defeating the man, but to return him to his former standing before the eyes of the Roman people and the Senate. He was not the most popular figure in politics, commonly known to all those living in Rome. He spent half his time in Sicily, or in Greece, attending to private affairs in regard to his vast land-holdings and businesses. This made him an easy target for his opponents in the Senate, namely senators such as Varro, who challenged Sempronius on his priorities and conventions to the Roman people. He had only been made co-consul out of desperation after Scipio’s death because of his previous experience dealing with Carthage and the Gauls north of the Po River. Other than that, the Senate would have been content to let him rot somewhere else if there had been a more able man – one that was that actually cared about confronting Hannibal. This battle, despite his early victory was still not one that most senior commander’s saw important for their notice – not enough fame or glory to be had, but, enough for Sempronius.

Several paces ahead of Gaius, he heard one of the legion prefect’s call-back, demanding that the rear guard, which comprise of the first cohort of the Sixth Legion and two cohorts of auxiliary troops to maintain the pace, as it seemed to be falling back from the main body.

“Bloody fool should get his ass back here and see if he can keep this pace up,” grumbled Valerius, which even Gaius, heard from where he was standing.

Gaius looked out towards the looming trees as visibility was becoming especially difficult as the snowfall picked up, coming down in violent sheets. It was nearly impossible to see anything beyond the faint outline of the forest, but then, for only a moment he caught sight of something standing out among the trees, staring right toward him: a white wolf.

Everything was eerily quiet, as if the world, the army, and his surroundings faded away until only he and the wolf, which stared at Gaius with unblinking eyes, remained.

Gaius felt himself reaching up to his chest, before placing his right hand over the spot where he wore the broken half of the clay medallion that Antony had given him ten years ago.

The wolf and the medallion, all seemed familiar, as if he had seen this same animal before.

“Lupus?” Gaius whispered softly, and subsequently all at once the noise of twenty thousand men marching rushed back as he blinked, and afterwards, the wolf was gone.

Gaius looked over his shoulder to see if anyone else had witnessed what he had, but those behind kept marching forward, like he, unaware of what was in the trees.

Gaius looked back to the trees, which were nearly impossible to see by now. The wolf was gone, as if it was never there. It was then that a horrible thought accrued to him, one that sent shivers of panic up his spine.

Gaius sudden broke from his formation to the dismay of those around him, and rushed back towards Valerius, who halted his horse, seemly ready to bark at Gaius for breaking rank, but Gaius never allowed Valerius a word as he spoke frantically.

“Valerius, we have to stop the army, now!”

“What are you babbling about, boy?” Valerius asked, confused and angry at the same time. In front of him, the first cohort of the Sixth stopped, which forced the long column of auxiliaries to end their march. Quickly, murmurs queried from man-to-man, all the way down the ranks.

“We have to stop the army, now, or we are all dead, Valerius. You have to believe me,” Gaius pleaded; his own words filled with terror, which quickly caused panic among the other men who were close enough to overhear him.

“An ambush?” Valerius pondered as his eyes began to scan the trees, seeing nothing but snow falling, and the ever consuming white haze that was obstructing his visibility.

“I don’t know. I wish I did, but I feel – “Gaius did not know what to say, or how to say what he’d seen. “I just know if we keep going, something terrible is going to happen to us. We have to warn Sempronius to turn us back, or to form ranks. Something before he marches us to our graves.”

“Damn it, boy,” Valerius lowered himself, speaking firmly. “Don’t you think I know this is foolhardy? However, there is nothing that can be done. We have to keep pressing forward until we reach the far side of the embankment, to open ground. If we stop now, or pull back, we are doomed regardless.”

“Then we have to form ranks, now, and make a stand. We may still have a chance.” Gaius reached out and placed his hand on Valerius’ shoe, squeezing it; his eyes opened wide with fear. “Please, Valerius, you have to trust me.”

The legate seemed ready to kick Gaius aside, perhaps even order one of his officers to take him into custody, but then, suddenly, after staring into Gaius’ eyes for a long while, his own expression changed.

“By the gods, “Valerius cursed under his breath. “Lepidus!” he then called out. A moment later one of his junior officers ran forward and saluted, awaiting his orders. “Hurry to Sempronius, at once, and inform him that I’m holding the march. There might be a risk of attack from the trees, and that, I’d advise him to do the same. Now go!”

“At once, Legate,” the young man replied as he ran on the outer edge of the formation, quickly disappearing into the mist and snow.

Valerius looked down at Gaius and spoke as he turned his horse, facing the trees now. “You’d better be right about this, or more than our careers will be over.”

“I pray that I’m wrong,” Gaius replied.

Valerius sneered as he cried out, “Form ranks.” Each man did so, turning to face the trees, the only way an attack could come, and joined their shields together, creating an unbreakable wall.

Gaius rejoined his men as well, taking his spot among them. His breathing quickened as he tried not to relieve himself, even though he was shaking terrible, and not because of the cold.

Silence fell upon the group of fifteen hundred plus Romans waited, listening for any hint that an attack was coming.

The trees were the only logical place for an ambush. With the river at their backs, some men standing in ankle-deep water, they waited. And then as the first ten minutes drifted by, the only sound that could be heard was the breathing of men and animals.

The running that Valerius sent forward came back into view, racing past Gaius, before he stopped before Valerius, who remained on horseback.

“Sir, Consul Sempronius demands that we rejoin the rest of the column, or as he said, he’ll have your head,” the runner relayed Sempronius’ instructions.

Valerius glanced down at Gaius, who stood in formation several dozen paces to his right, and stared at the young centurion.

For a moment, Gaius feared Valerius would do as he was instructed, but then, the old veteran turned his focused back to the runner and said, “Return to the Consul and inform him I’m holding position, until I’m confident an attack is not imminent. And, that I advise him to do the same – form ranks and look to the trees.”

The runner looked nervous, clearly afraid to repeat to Sempronius what Valerius had told him.

“Do as you are ordered, soldier,” Valerius ordered with a firm, but understanding tone.

“Yes, sir.” The massager ran off, again disappearing in the thick haze before he was gone from sight.

Gaius took a deep breath. He knew if the boy should return, more than likely it would be with a detachment of soldiers to relive Valerius of his command. All Gaius could do was glance back up at him, giving him worried eyes, mumbling his gratitude for believing him. Valerius did not reply, but held his position.

“You’re risking the legate’s live, Gaius. Are you a fool?” Agrippa muttered. The big man stood to Gaius’ left, and at glance, Gaius could see that his sentiment was shared by the rest of the men in his century as they stood uneasy, nor for threat of ambush, but for what Sempronius might do when he turned his men around and removed their commander from the Sixth.

“I’m not doing this because – “Gaius’ words were broken when his and every man’s attention was turned suddenly to the trees, as a strait of drums and horns blew, echoing, knocking snow from barren branches.

Gaius’ heart skipped a beat as the roars of thousands of bloodthirsty men cried out, yet unseen, but clearly heard, as if a powerful beast of unimaginable size dwelled within the forest.

“Hold formations and ready javelins!” Gaius heard Valerius bellow at the top of his lungs. His orders were repeated by each centurion up and down the formation, including Gaius, who had to lick his dry lips twice before he could repeat the command to his century.

A moment later a swirl of whistling sounds blew through the trees. Most of the men, too young to know what the terrible warning was, were unprepared as hundreds of arrows impacted against their shields and armor. A moment later, when the last shot struck its mark, a chorus of moans rang as men struck by the sharp projectiles, shrieked in horror as they were hit.

Gaius turned abruptly as he heard one of his men go down. No arrows had struck his shield, but as he looked down, he saw that one of them had torn through Agrippa’s throat.

The man whizzed violently as his hands reached up to his neck, trying desperately to stop his own blood from gushing out through the hole in his throat.

Blood bubbled from Agrippa’s neck. No one could help him even though a number of men called his name, or cried for the doctor to rush to his aide, but with the impossible gap between the men and the river, no one could get to Agrippa in time, as if it would have help, before he choked on his own blood.