Once again he wished that Fronto were here rather than he and again he wondered how Fronto and Balbus had fared during the night. This entire escapade would be for naught if the two legates had not managed to secure the bay entrance. If the Veneti still held the promontory fortresses, their companions in the city would wait until the Romans had expended a great deal of effort and time getting to them and would then simply board their ships and flee as they had so many times before in the past few months.
Slowly, still running through possibilities and alternatives in his mind, Tribune Tetricus led the Tenth Legion across the low ground toward the bulk of Darioritum and as the yards passed interminably by the sun rose behind them, adding to the impressive sight of the four legions walking out of the golden glow, and gradually illuminating the oppidum ahead.
Darioritum was an impressive sight.
The Veneti had countered the inadequacies of the territory by increasing the man-made defences of the city. In Tetricus’ experience, most of the oppida the army had encountered across the whole of Gaul had taken advantage of a high site, bolstered by thick walls and occasionally a low ditch at the bottom.
Darioritum lacked great hills or rocky cliffs; there were no unassailable slopes. Three low hills surrounded the port at the head of the huge bay and each was low and gentle. However, in response to nature’s failure, a man that Tetricus would have loved to speak to had carried out defensive works on an impressive scale. The walls of Darioritum were unlike any he had ever seen.
The oppidum sat on the slopes of the northernmost of the three hills, its ramparts reaching down to the water’s edge and rendering that approach impossible by the army. In place of the more common ditch, the architect of Darioritum’s defences had traced the two small rivers that skirted the base of the hill to both east and west and had widened the channel to create a moat a hundred yards wide.
Even if an army had managed to find a way by boat across the bay to the port or across the river, which would clearly be within easy missile shot of any defender, the Veneti had settled for not one, but two walls. A low wall constructed of timber and earth, much like a Roman camp, rose from the banks of the rivers and the rear of the port, leaving no flat land on which to marshal an attacking force. Twenty yards behind those rose the true walls of the city, high and powerful, with towers taller than was usual, allowing the defenders an unrivalled view of what was happening below the smaller wall, should anyone manage to get that close.
The result, as Tetricus had surmised from the scant accounts of the scouts, was that the only conceivable route of assault was to climb that northern hill and approach the oppidum from that side. However, the planners of the city had accounted for this weak spot in the defences by continuing both huge walls over the rise and allowing the slope several hundred yards from the enceinte to fill with dense woodland. The occupants must enter and leave the oppidum by boat at the port.
Clever.
The only possible land approach was hampered by trees and undergrowth. An army could pass through the terrain, but only slowly and individually, marshalling as a force once they had reached open ground, which would be in direct sight of the missile-wielding defenders.
It was well thought-out.
Again, as they moved on toward the looming fortress, Tetricus’ mind wheeled through ideas and concerns. This was why it was someone
They could cut down the forest. They certainly had the manpower to do so. But it would be a slow job. Such thick woodland, it would be the job of a full day or two just to clear it out enough to pass a legion through. Even then, the ground would be impassable to carts and the artillery. Any attack would be delayed for the minimum of a day and would be down purely to legionaries with no artillery support.
They could try diverting the river into a narrow channel and filling the wide ditch enough to cross. But then they’d still be working under the fire of the defenders, it would still take more than a day and, once again, the ground once they had reclaimed it from the water would be too soft for easy traversing and would be impossible for the wagons.
It was a problem.
“Tribune Tetricus?”
Reeling his mind back in, he turned in surprise to see an officer he didn’t recognise from the general staff, closing with him.
“Yes?”
“The general requests your presence.”
Tetricus nodded nervously and turned to the more senior tribune by his side.
“Carry on. I’ll return as soon as I can.”
The man saluted, saying nothing, and Tetricus kicked his horse into action, following the officer back toward the command party.
Caesar, along with his senior officers, had ridden half a mile ahead of the slowly-moving army and they were standing beside their horses, staring out at the oppidum ahead. As the two riders bore down on them and slowed to a walk and then a stop, Caesar turned and nodded at them.
“Ah… Tetricus. Good. Join us.”
The tribune dismounted and led his horse by the reins to join the officers. He smiled as he recognised the figure of Appius Coruncanius Mamurra, the engineer from Formia. To his eternal satisfaction, the great engineer nodded at him as one professional to another.
“Mamurra tells me there is no quick and simple way into Darioritum. I brought him on board because he, like you, is a man who likes to find solutions to impossible problems. I refuse to believe there is a problem of defence that cannot be overcome by the pair of you. Find me my quick way in.”
Mamurra shrugged at Tetricus as though in apology.
“A full day is the quickest I can think of.”
The tribune nodded.
“A day either way; either to re-channel and reclaim the river, or to deforest and move in from the north. But either way we couldn’t get the artillery close.”
The officer nodded thoughtfully.
“We could perhaps speed things up with the river if we could get men across who could pull down the first wall and use it to fill the ditch?”
“Yes, but it’s still slow and they’d be in direct line of any fire from the walls. We’d lose a lot of men.” He shrugged. ”We could torch the woodland? It’s brutal, but a lot faster than men with axes.”
Mamurra shook his head.
“The ground and foliage are drying out, but they’ll still be very damp. If we burn it, it’ll smoke and smoulder for days. Too slow.”
“Then we’re back to axes and a full day.”
Caesar looked from one face to the other.
“The legions are catching up with us. Find me a solution.”
Mamurra frowned and rubbed his chin.
“Of course, we don’t have to remove the whole woodland; just enough to get a column of men through. Once we can get a century or two at the front they can perhaps use wicker screens to cover the rest as they filter through into the open ground?”
Tetricus nodded.
“Then we should concentrate on the low edge near the river. The trees are sparser there and the men would be in less danger from the walls as they got closer. I’d be happier if we could get vineae to the front to cover the men. Wicker screens are a bit feeble. But then we’re back to being unable to move big, wheeled structures over the sawn stumps.”
“Oxen and ropes” Mamurra smiled.
“Better than axes.”
“And if they can tear the trees from the earth whole and with the roots intact, rather than just cutting them down, the ground can easily be levelled for the artillery carts.”
Caesar nodded.
“Good. Tetricus? Go back to the Tenth and bring them around to the north. We shall approach from that
