S. Turney: Caesar's Vow

It was ironic, really. Here he was, standing watching the death of a poor fool who had — like Ambiorix — tipped his hand too early. He was surrounded by an assembly of the same chieftains who had condemned his own father to death for seeking to unite the tribes of Gaul under him. And the druids who had done nothing to help the father were now doing everything in their power to see that very thing happen to the son. Many of his father’s judges were now pledging their tribes’ swords to his command.

He would have laughed had he not been trying to maintain his anonymity.

‘The Senones and the Carnutes are straining at the leash now,’ the druid beside him muttered from the depths of his plain brown wool hood.

‘They will not move, though, until they are told to do so.’

‘They will not wait for long. This humiliation is the final one that they will suffer. Already their nobles plot and plan and gather their men.’

‘Tell them that if they move early they will simply follow Acco to the whipping post. If they seek what we all seek, they will wait until I give them the order.’

‘You are our figurehead and general, Esus. Remember that. Not our king.’

‘I am the man who will rid you of Rome and if you wish to succeed in your endeavour, you will do exactly what I tell you, and when I do so. You will tell the Carnutes and the Senones not to move until I give the word. The word will be given before the spring — you know that.’

The druid nodded. ‘It is said that their Crassus has died out in the east and that Rome teeters on the brink of disaster. It is said that Caesar will have to concentrate on Rome if he is to survive. The foretelling is that Caesar will be slow to move and mired in the workings of his webs in Rome.’

‘We will wait until the legions are settled in for the winter and believe themselves secure and in control. Until Caesar is in his palace and dealing with the failings of his own people. And then, when all is right and our people are ready, straining like the river against the dam, the word will be given, and the Senones can loose the fire arrow that signals the end of Rome.’

They watched the sagging figure of Acco, who must even now be dead.

‘Send word to all our friends. There must be no exchange of hostages — no evidence to betray us. Only the oaths of all. Each man must be ready to act when that fire is unleashed.’

The druid let out a slow, controlled breath.

‘The time is upon us.’