Marius' Mules II: The Belgae Read Online Free Page A

the closest among
the army in both age and command style.
    The spring
bees hummed around the grass and scrub outside the gate as the men
trod heavily on the dirt track that had formed from months of
soldiers tracking to and fro between the camp and city across the
river. From here the path ran down a gentle grassy slope to the
bridge, where it converged with similar tracks that had been worn
from the camps of the Eleventh and Tenth Legions. At the meeting
point by the bridge two posts had been erected; one bore direction
signs to the city and the three camps, presumably erected so that
merchants and teamsters knew where to sell and to deliver; the
other post held a banner with the eagle of Rome.
    “” What is Labienus thinking?” snapped Fronto as he pointed down
at the flag.
    “ Hmm?” Balbus looked closely and frowned.
    “ I suppose it’s just there to denote the presence of the
legions and the headquarters in the citadel in town?”
    Fronto
grumbled.
    “ Labienus is bright enough to know that you don’t plant the
flag of Rome in territory we don’t own. It basically tells anyone
who sees it that we either think we do own it or that we intend to
own it shortly.”
    Crispus
shrugged.
    “ And yet it remains. I cannot help but wonder why the
indigenous people have not requested it be taken down. I’m sure
that if they had, Labienus would have done so.”
    Fronto growled
again.
    “ Stupid. Arrogant and stupid.”
    Balventius
rolled his eye around and laughed.
    “ I think you’re crediting them with a little too much
intelligence there, Fronto. Six legions bring a lot of money into
an area. Even the lowest vagrant in Vesontio is dining out and
wearing silk now. After this winter it’s probably the richest city
in Gaul. Most of them would let you plant a flag in their back if
you jingled your purse!”
    “ Well…” Fronto pointed up the valley, “it looks like their
customer base is about to increase again. Can’t see which legion
that is, but they’re coming from roughly south west. Which legion’s
camped out west?”
    Balventius
frowned.
    “ That would be Crassus’ Seventh. Why the hell are they coming
in?”
    “ That’s not the Seventh.” Crispus shaded his eyes and squinted.
“In fact, I have no idea who they are.”
    He became
aware that Fronto was looking at him expectantly, but with a hint
of irritation.
    “ Well I cannot see the legion number on the flags, but all of
Caesar’s legions bear the Taurus emblem. Those flags seem to have
horses.”
    Fronto boggled
at him.
    “ You can’t see how many ‘I’s are on the flag, but at that
distance you can distinguish between quadrupeds?”
    “ It’s a simple matter of shape, Fronto. In fact, those symbols
look a lot more like Gaulish ones than Roman.”
    “ Let’s get to the bottom of this!”
    Without
waiting for the other three, Fronto started striding purposefully
out from the path in the direction of the approaching legionaries.
After a minute, he became aware that the others had caught up,
Crispus coming alongside in a vaguely undignified scurry, Balbus
lagging a little, and Balventius striding calmly along.
    The insignia
became gradually clearer as the four approached and, once he
finally picked out the detail, Fronto came to a sudden halt, as did
his companions.
    The
legionaries in front of him were marching not in one column, as it
appeared at a distance, but in two, each column with a width of six
men and trailing off like a glinting armoured ophidian. The arms
are armour they bore were shiny and new, the shields devoid of any
marks, and the banners…
    Two new
insignia, both with some kind of Celtic-style horse, fluttered
below the numbers XIII and XIIII.
    “ New legions?” Crispus’ tone echoed Fronto’s own
surprise.
    The column was
not being led, as was customary, by the officers, but by the
signifers, the eagle standards, and the musicians. The officers
were riding alongside in a small knot, with the cavalry stretched
out