Colleen McCullough - 5. Caesar

There. Ten million well spent. But when was he going to be able to return to Italian Gaul? It was June, and the prospect of being able to leave Further Gaul grew, if anything, more remote. The Belgae were probably now completely finished, but Ambiorix and Commius were still at liberty. Therefore the Belgae would have to be drubbed once more. The tribes of central Gaul were definitely finished; the Arverni and the Aedui, let off lightly, would not be listening to any Vercingetorix or Litaviccus again. As the name Litaviccus popped into his mind, Caesar shuddered; a hundred years of exposure to Rome hadn't killed the Gaul in Litaviccus. Was that equally true of every Gaul? Wisdom said that continued rule by fear and terror would benefit neither Rome nor Gaul. But how to get the Gauls to the point whereat they could see for themselves where their destiny lay? Fear and terror now, so that when it lightened they were grateful? Fear and terror now, so that they always had it to remember, even when it no longer existed? War was a passionate business to peoples other than the Roman people; those others went into war boiling with righteous anger, thirsting to kill their enemies. But that kind of emotion was difficult to sustain at the necessary fever pitch. When all was said and done, any people wanted to live at peace, pursue an ordinary and pleasant life, watch their children grow, eat plenty, be warm in winter. Only Rome had turned war into a business. That was why Rome always won in the end. Because, though Roman soldiers learned to hate their enemies healthily, they approached war with cool business heads. Thoroughly trained, absolutely pragmatic, fully confident. They understood the difference between losing a battle and losing a war. They also understood that battles were won before the first pilum was thrown; battles were won on the drill field and in the training camp. Discipline, restraint, thought, valor. Pride in professional excellence. No other people owned that attitude to war. And no other Roman army owned that attitude more professionally than Caesar's.

At the beginning of Quinctilis came very disturbing news from Rome. Caesar was still in Bibracte with Antony and the Twelfth, though he had already issued orders to Labienus to reduce the Treveri. He himself was about to depart for Ambiorix's lands in Belgica; the Eburones, Atrebates and Bellovaci had to be shown for once and for all that resistance was useless. Marcus Claudius Marcellus, the junior consul, had publicly flogged a citizen of Caesar's colony at Novum Comum. Not with his own white hands, of course; the deed was done at his order. And the damage was irreparable. No Roman citizen could be flogged. He might be chastised by being beaten with the rods which made up a lictor's fasces, but his back was inviolate, legally protected from the touch of a knouted lash. Now Marcus Marcellus was saying to the whole of Italian Gaul and Italia that many people who deemed themselves citizens were not citizens. They could and would be flogged. "I won't have it!" said Caesar to Antony, Decimus Brutus and Trebonius, white with anger. "The people of Novum Comum are Roman citizens! They are my clients, and I owe them my protection." "It's going to happen more and more," said Decimus Brutus, looking grim. "All the Claudii Marcelli are cast from the same mold, and there are three of them of an age to be consul. Rumor says each of them will be consul Marcus this year, his first cousin Gaius next year, and his brother Gaius the year after that. The boni are running rampant; they're dominating the elections so completely that one can't foresee two Popularis consuls getting into office until you're consul, Caesar. And even then, will you be saddled with another Bibulus? Or ye Gods! Bibulus himself?" Still so angry that he couldn't laugh, Caesar thinned his lips to a straight line and glared. "I will not suffer Bibulus as my colleague, and that's that! I'll have a man I want, and I'll get a man I want, no matter what they try to do to prevent it. But that doesn't alter what's happening right now in Italian Gaul my province, Decimus! How dare Marcus Marcellus invade my jurisdiction to flog my people?" "You don't have a full imperium maius," said Trebonius. "Oh well, they only give that kind of imperium to Pompeius!" snapped Caesar. "What can you do?" asked Antony. "Quite a lot," said Caesar. "I've sent to Labienus and asked to detach the Fifteenth and Publius Vatinius. Labienus can have the Sixth instead." Trebonius sat up. "The Fifteenth is well blooded by now," he said, "but its men have only been in the field for a year. And, as I remember, all of them come from across the Padus. Many of them come from Novum Comum." "Exactly," said Caesar. "And Publius Vatinius," said Decimus Brutus thoughtfully, "is your loyalest adherent." From somewhere Caesar found a smile. "I hope no loyaler than you or Trebonius, Decimus." "What about me?" demanded Antony indignantly. "You're family, so pipe down," said Trebonius, grinning. "You're going to send the Fifteenth and Publius Vatinius to garrison Italian Gaul," said Decimus Brutus. "I am." "I know there's nothing legal to stop you, Caesar," said Trebonius, "but won't Marcus Marcellus and the Senate take that as a declaration of war? I don't mean genuine war, I mean the kind of war which takes place between minds." "I have a valid excuse," said Caesar, some of his usual calm returning. "Last year the Iapudes raided into Tergeste and threatened coastal Illyricum. The local militia put them down; it wasn't serious. I will send Publius Vatinius and the Fifteenth to Italian Gaul to, and I quote, 'protect the Roman citizen colonies across the Padus River from barbarian invasion.' " "The only barbarian in sight being Marcus Marcellus," said Antony, delighted. "I think he'll interpret the wording correctly, Antonius." "What orders will you issue Vatinius?" asked Trebonius. "To act in my name throughout Italian Gaul and Illyricum. To prevent Roman citizens' being flogged. To conduct the assizes. To govern Italian Gaul for me in the way I would myself were I there," said Caesar. "And where will you put the Fifteenth?" asked Decimus Brutus. "Close to Illyricum? In Aquileia, perhaps?" "Oh, no," said Caesar. "In Placentia." "A stone's throw from Novum Comum." "Quite." "What I want to know," said Antony, "is what does Pompeius think of the flogging? After all, he established citizen colonies across the Padus in Italian Gaul too. Marcus Marcellus imperils his citizens as much as he does yours." Caesar lifted his lip. "Pompeius said and did absolutely nothing. He's in Tarentum. Private business, I understand. But he's promised to attend a meeting of the Senate outside the pomerium later in the month, when he drifts through. The pretext of the meeting is to discuss army pay." "That's a joke!" said Decimus Brutus. "The army hasn't had a pay rise in a hundred years, literally." "True. I've been thinking about that," said Caesar.

Attrition continued; the Belgae were invaded yet again, their homes burned, their sprouting crops raked out of the ground or ploughed under, their animals killed, their women and children rendered homeless. Tribes like the Nervii, who had been able to field fifty thousand men in the early years of Caesar's campaign in Gaul, were now hard put to field one thousand. The best of the women and children had been sold into slavery; Belgica had become a land of old people, Druids, cripples and mental defectives. At the end of it Caesar could be sure that no one was left to tempt Ambiorix or Commius, and that their own tribes, such as they were, were too afraid of Rome to want anything to do with their former kings. Ambiorix, elusive as ever, was never found or captured. And Commius had gone east to help the Treveri against Labienus, quite as thorough in his campaign as Caesar was. Gaius Fabius was sent with two legions to reinforce Rebilus and his two legions among the Pictones and the Andes, two tribes who had not suffered disastrously at Alesia, nor been in the forefront of resistance to Rome. But it seemed as if, one by one, all the peoples of Gaul determined on a dying gasp, perhaps thinking that Caesar's army, after so many years of war, must surely be exhausted and losing interest. That it was not was manifest once again: twelve thousand Andeans died in one battle at a bridge over the Liger, others in more minor engagements. Which meant that slowly, surely, the area of Gaul still capable of fighting back was shrinking steadily southward and westward, into Aquitania. Where Lucterius was joined by Drappes of the Senones after his own people refused to shelter him. Of all the great enemy leaders, few were left. Gutruatus of the Carnutes was turned over to Caesar by his own people, too terrified of Roman reprisals to succor him. Because he had murdered Roman citizen civilians at Cenabum, his fate was not entirely in Caesar's hands; a representative council from the army was also involved. Despite all Caesar's arguments that Gutruatus should live to walk in his triumphal parade, the army got its way. Gutruatus was flogged and beheaded. Shortly after this, Commius encountered Gaius Volusenus Quadratus for the second time. While Caesar went south with the cavalry, Mark Antony was left in command of Belgica; he finished the Bellovaci completely, then went into camp at Nemetocenna in the lands of the Atrebates, Commius's own people. Who were so afraid of further Roman attrition that they refused to have anything to do with Commius. Having met up with a band of like-minded German Sugambri, he sought refuge in brigandage and wreaked havoc among the Nervii, in no condition to resist. When Antony received a plea for help from the ever-loyal Vertico, he sent Volusenus and a very large troop of cavalry to Vertico's assistance. Time had not diminished Volusenus's hatred of Commius one little bit. Aware who was commanding the brigands, Volusenus set to work with enthusiastic savagery. Working systematically, he drove Commius and his Sugambri in the manner of a shepherd his sheep until finally they met. There ensued a hate-filled duel between the two men, who charged at each other with lances leveled. Commius won. Volusenus went down with Commius's lance right through the middle of his thigh; the femur was in splinters, the flesh mangled, the nerves and blood vessels severed. Most of Commius's men were killed, but Commius, on the fleetest horse, got clean away while attention was focused on the critically wounded Volusenus. Who was conveyed to Nemetocenna. Roman army surgeons were good; the leg was amputated above the wound, and Volusenus lived. Commius sent an envoy with a letter to see Mark Antony.