Gallia Invicta

The huge Gallic centurion held out his hand. A neat scroll tube lay in it.

“Oh, a written message. Alright.”

As he grasped it, he frowned.

“This has come from Priscus in Rome. He doesn’t let other people handle these?”

Atenos shrugged.

“I wasn’t about to let the courier disturb you now, legate. I may have made him soil his breeches before he agreed to hand it over, though.”

Fronto stared.

“Anyway, Atenos… I’ve been hearing stories about your performance since we parted. What the hell did you think you were doing?”

The big Gaul shrugged.

“Training, sir.”

With a salute, he turned and strode off. Fronto shook his head.

“That man is going to either make or break the Tenth. I’m not sure which, but I’m certainly glad he’s on our side.”

A chorus of chuckles greeted the comment and the officers ambled on through the main street until they spotted, not far along, a tavern sign hanging over a low, oaken building.

“That’ll do.”

As they made their way into the murky interior, Crispus trotted lightly over to the bar area and began to look up and down behind it.

“They’ve got some fairly potent looking brews here; the smell is curling my nose hair. There’s some wine here, though. Looks like its come all the way from Gallia Narbonensis. Could be just the thing to relax you, Marcus.”

As Fronto wandered across to the table by the window and sank into a chair, Brutus gathered other seating from around the bar where it had been overturned and Roscius, an intrigued frown on his pale brow, walked across to the bar to help Crispus.

“You actually drink the local brews?”

“Indeed, yes. Try them… you might be surprised. I’ve grown quite accustomed to them. When we returned to Rome in the winter, I had to pay an emperor’s ransom to import beer from Vesontio. Imagine that: importing Gallic goods to the capital.”

As the two men laughed and went along the kegs, Fronto undid the scroll case and unrolled the letter.

Marcus.

I do not know where to begin. Things are beginning to fall apart in Rome. I would be careful how you pass this on, but the elder Cicero has been before the senate a few times, attacking Caesar’s various bill and achievements. Not sure why or what he hopes to achieve, but he is definitely stirring up trouble for the general.

Clodius appears to have stopped visiting Pompey’s house. I suspect we have been seen observing them, since the two never meet now, but I have seen Philopater speaking to some of Pompey’s men from time to time, so there is still something going on.

A number of people who gave evidence for Caelius in the trial have come to a nasty end in the last week. It appears that Philopater has been a busy man. Three known allies turned up on the banks of the Tiber following a swim while attached to marble busts of the general, so I think we can read a message into that, and two more died when their houses mysteriously burned to the ground.

But I’m afraid I have saved the worst for last.

Your mother was attacked at the market yesterday. I was not present. She was out shopping with Posco when, according to witnesses, they were jumped by four men and dragged into an alleyway. Do not worry unduly. I had a medicus visit the house straight away as soon as they returned. Your mother was beaten, but not seriously wounded. She is more shaken and frightened than in actual pain. Posco fared worse, as he tried to fight them off.

I have no hope of discovering the identity of the men who attacked them, since there was no sign of them when I got to the site of the attack, but there is one ray of light. A beggar saw what happened. The four attackers took them into the alley and, moments later, another man entered too. The beggar said he looked like he might be a retired soldier, but whoever he was, it looks like he saved the pair of them as, moments later, they returned to the street, running for home, and shortly after, he reappeared and left the scene. The enterprising beggar followed the old soldier and gave me an address for a paltry sum of money.

I go today to try and track this man down and find out whether he is involved or merely a brave passer-by. Either way, I have spent considerable amounts of your money hiring more men and have put a permanent large guard on your mother and Faleria, and all the house and servants.

I will write again as soon as I know more. I have received nothing from you yet since my last letter, but then I assume your courier is still on route to me. I hope the campaign out there finishes soon, as we really could do with you being back here.

Hoping Fortuna continues to watch over you.

Gnaeus.

“The answer is no.”

Fronto ripped his hands away from the table in disgust and whirled away from the general, grinding his teeth. He took a deep breath, willing himself calm, and then turned back.

“But we’re done here, and the legions are staying. You don’t need me.”

“Fronto, whether we’re done here or not remains to be seen. The battle only concluded today, for the love of Venus!”

The general sighed and cradled his hands on the flat, wooden surface, fixing Fronto with a sympathetic look.

“I know you want to go home. I understand that, Marcus. I want to, as well. And I’m aware that Balbus is going to have to be sent back to Massilia and that you’ll want to go with him, but the timing is simply not auspicious for such acts.”

Fronto shook his head.

“Then what are we waiting for? Tell me that!”

“We have to give it at least a week here to make sure that we have all of the Veneti and that no more centres of resistance are going to spring up. We need to contact the Osismii along the coast and make sure that they know the situation and are willing to take their oaths and acquiesce to the power of Rome. We have to wait on word from Crassus, Labienus and Sabinus to make sure their actions have also been a success. I am simply not willing to leave the job unfinished and march back to Rome without being certain that Gaul is completely pacified.”

Fronto growled.

“This benighted bloody country is never going to be pacified. Crispus has this lovely analogy of a lumpy sleeping pallet that describes the whole damn situation in disgusting detail. And anyway, Sabinus and Labienus are capable of doing all this for you, and Crassus will probably have executed half the population of the south west by now, so you could go to Rome if you really wanted.”

A sly look crossed his face.

“Remember the letter I showed you? Cicero’s causing you trouble. You need to get home too and deal with that.”

Caesar’s eyes hardened.

“Marcus, you are not changing my mind; you are merely beginning to aggravate me. We will remain at Darioritum until we receive word from the other armies…”

Fronto started to speak but Caesar raised his voice and shouted over the top.

“AND IF WE ARE REQUIRED TO CARRY OUT FURTHER ACTIONS WE WILL DO THAT TOO!”

He fell silent under the glare of the Tenth’s legate and sighed again.