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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1283575-Rise-of-Lucius-Civilis
by Grend
Rated: E · Fiction · History · #1283575
Lucius Civilis is a young Roman nobleman in the waning decades of the Roman Republic.
Lucius Civilis
Part one: The Rise of Lucius


Prologue


The World was changing. Each New Year brought more snow and bitter cold than the last. The harvests had failed yet again, few plants flowered and fruited anymore, the beasts of the wild fled elsewhere, and meat was scarce. The people who dwelt by the northern sea starved and some died, the relentless suffering taking their toll.
It was too much to bear for the people; they had to choose whether to leave, or whether to die.

The king of the Cimbri, Boiorix, ordered all the people, man, woman and child to prepare for travel. What oxen and other beasts of burden there were was used to pull the wagons; those without such animals pulled and pushed the wagons themselves. Everything that could be carried was taken, all grains and non-perishables gathered. On order of the king, all apart from those who refused to leave destroyed all their homes and huts, villages and towns were turned to ash; there was no turning back.

The Cimbri travelled south, soon after leaving their homelands, their neighbours and relatives, the Teutons under the king Teutobod, joined them in the migration. A seemingly endless line of wagons and people worked their way south in search of a new homeland.
The Cimbri and the Teutons were vicious in battle and merciless in victory, the Scordisci and Boii tribes were crushed in combat against them. The migrating tribes plundered the homes of the defeated so thoroughly that Cimbri became synominious with “pirate” in the language of Germanic and neightbouring tribes.

As the march progressed, many tribes joined them, some out of protection, others out of desire for loot and plunder. When the Cimbri and Teutons entered Noricum, they fought against the local tribe, the Taurisci. The Taurisci was unable to repel the invaders on their own; they summoned support from their allies, the Romans.
When the Romans arrived in Noricum, the Cimbri agreed to leave, after hearing tales of Roman military power. But the Roman commander, Consul Gnaeus Papirius Carbo had other plans, he had set an ambush. Somehow they learnt of this plan and incensed by this treachery all but destroyed the Roman army at the Battle of Noreia, although Carbo escaped with his life, if not his dignity; his consulship was stripped when he returned to Rome.

The Cimbri, instead of marching into Italy went to Gaul, where yet again the Romans were defeated, once in Gallia Narbonensis, once in Burdigala, the consul being killed in the battle, and once more in the Alps by the Cimbri’s ally, the Tigurines.

Rome was at stake, such a threat had not been known since the days of Hannibal Barca, yet the Cimbri would be but a taste of the great migrations that would bring the Romans to ruin.

1. First steps

Gaius Lucius Civilis stood in front of thirty-five men of the Comitia Tributa, the Tribal Assembly awaiting his fate. Dressed in the toga virilis, a plain white toga he waited as the leaders of the tribes of Rome deliberated. Some other hundred young men, all in there twenties waited with Lucius.

The Comitia Tributa stops talking. An old man in the centre of the Assembly stands up and addresses the anxious candidates.
“The Comitia Tributa has finished deliberations and has decided who will be the Tribune of the Soldiers for the following year”

He opens a scroll held in his left hand and clears his throat.
“Asinius Acilius, Marcellus Aelius, Herennius Aemilius, Herius….”

As the names were spoken Lucius started to panic, there were only twenty-four positions and the list was at twenty, he starts to think what would he do if he doesn’t receive a tribuneship.

“…And Sextus Caesennius and Lucius Civilis” finished the old man as he rolled up the scroll. “Congratulations to all who received a tribuneship, for those who missed out there are other ways to serve Rome none the…”

Lucius did not need to listen to the old man comfort those who failed; he had reached his goal, albeit with help from his fathers’ patron the ex-praetor Quintus Servillus Caepio.

The soon to be Consul Quintus Servillus Caepio.


2. Left Right, Left Right

“I hate the army.” thought Lucius Civilis as he struggled to keep up with the pace demanded by the centurion, his metre long stick ever ready to ‘motivate’ any slowing legionaries.
“Keep up the pace you worthless Gauls!” ordered the Centurion as he hit a recruit to Lucius’ right with his stick, followed by riding his horse to the head of the column.

“If you do not complete training to a satisfactory level you will receive inferior rations until you do otherwise.” screamed another Centurion as he swung his stick onto Lucius back, almost tripping him over. This treatment continued for another hour as the five hundred odd recruits marched, stumble, and staggered along the northern bank of the river Po, to the camp.

This was the camp of Legio I and II, the consular armies under the command of Consul Quintus Servillus Caepio, consisting of some twelve thousand legionaries and almost the same in slaves, servants and other camp followers.

Lucius stumbled into his tent and collapsed onto his bunk. Another man walked wearily into the tent and passed to Lucius a water bottle.  “Get up Lucius we have weapons training in an hour” he said as he drank from his own flask.
“I know Sextus, I am just so exhausted from the march,” said Lucius, taking a mouthful of water from the bottle “But lets get ready, the Centurion is very quick with that stick of his.”
The two young men walked through the camp towards the training field.

“Have you met Caepio yet?” Lucius asked Sextus.
“Not yet but I plan to introduce myself at the party tonight” Sextus said in reply.

They said nothing for a while as they continued on their way. “I hope to impress on him to give me a command when we enter a battle.” Lucius said. “ Maybe I can put a good word in for you.”

Both Lucius Civilis and Sextus Caesennius were military tribunes, up and coming nobles seeking a political career.

The two tribunes arrived at the training field; three other centuries were undertaking formations, one century moving to the left and front of the other, throwing javelins then charging at imaginary enemies.
“You two, get in formation now!” screamed the Centurion at Lucius and Sextus; they quickly ran to the double line in front of the wooden stakes.

The Centurion started walking up and down the line, occasionally swinging his stick.
“Today you will learn to use a sword and shield, against your enemy over there.” Gesturing with his thumb to the wooden stakes behind his back. “Pick up a sword and shield each stand in front of a stake.”

Lucius bent over for the wooden sword and shield and almost couldn’t get up; they seemed to weigh a tonne.

“If you wondering why the dummy weapons are so heavy I shall tell you; if you can fight with these, you will fight twice as effective with the real thing.” The Centurion said to the recruits. “ Now do as I say, with your sword arm put your hand by your waist with the sword pointing forward…”

The sword training continued for the rest of the day, the recruit’s arms aching from overuse.


3. Mingling

That night the Consul Caepio held a party to allow the various nobles in the camp to mingle and introduce themselves.
Lucius and Sextus walked into the giant tent, wearing not military attire but the white toga virilis.
Lucius washed his hands in the scented water bowl provided then waited for Sextus to do the same.
“Do you see Caepio?” asked Sextus, removing the last of the dirt from his fingernails.
“He’s over there in the centre.” Lucius said pointing to the man on the reclining chair surrounded by several nobles.

Lucius and Sextus walked over to the crowd surrounding Caepio and managed to get through to the front.
“Ave Consul” Lucius said as the two tribunes saluted. “My name is Gaius Lucius Civilis and this is Sextus Caesennius, we are two of the military tribunes assigned to Legio I.”
“Ah young Civilis, I see that my patronage of your father paid off for you.” Stated Caepio. “Make yourself comfortable.” Said the consul, open hand in the direction of a vacant reclining chair.

Lucius lay down on the chair while Sextus, realising that the Consul was not interested in him, excused himself and wandered off to talk to other nobles.

Caepio begun the pleasantries “So how do you find the role of Military Tribune, is it to your liking?”
“Considering all I have done for the last two weeks is drill and march along the Po, It isn’t the most enjoyable period of my life.” Civilis said, with a hint of humour in his response.

Caepio laughed at that. “Yes, those centurions can get just, well lets say a bit ‘enthusiastic’ when it comes to their jobs. Trust me, you will need these skills very soon.”

Picking up the subtle hint Lucius asked, “Do you know when exactly I might need those skills?”

Not wanting to give away too much, the legions hadn’t been addressed yet, Caepio only said, “At Tolosa.”
Lucius Civilis would have to wait before he knew anymore than ‘At Tolosa’.

Day had broken.

In the centre of the camp, there was an open field that allowed the entire army to be addressed. At the front of the field a Tribunal, a elevated platform was set up, with the consul Quintus Servillus Caepio standing on top, his lictors, or bodyguards, formed in a single row at the front of the Tribunal.

“Romans!” screamed Caepio. “All true citizens to a man, all believers in the glory of Rome and her destiny hear me!”
The Legions roared back in response.
Caepio continued. “In the days of my youth, we Romans conquered the Provincia and founded the colony of Narbo Martius. When we did so the people of Tolosa wisely allied with us and in reward we let them live as they wish.” 

The consul stretched out his hands to the amassed legions. “But they betrayed us and exploited the Roman virtues of honesty and honour.” He lifted he left hand and formed a fist. “When the vile Cimbri horde swept forth into the Provincia Tolosa conspired and plotted with this travelling plague, rebelling against good Roman rule and set forth to murder our garrison, with your and mine brethren expecting nothing but friendship.”

The legions screamed their outrage at this insult. Caepio knew how to work the crowd.

“Romans, true Romans do not let such traitors escape, it is time for their punishment. We will march forth and crush these rebels and remind them who their masters are!” Caepio yelled at the top of his voice, smashing his left hand, still in a fist, into his right hands open palm.

The Romans screamed in support.
“Romans get ready for war, loot and plunder, we march tomorrow!”


4. The Battle for Tolosa

The army had been marching for about three weeks and had just set camp for the night when Lucius Civilis was called to the Consuls tent.

When he arrived all the high ranking officers of the two consular Legions were present.

“Now that everyone is here, I shall begin.” Caepio said. “Our scouts have informed us that certain elements in Tolosa are willing to support our retaking of this city.”

“How will they support us Consul?” asked one of the Centurions

“They are willing to hamper the defence of the city and even fight against the other Tolosites.” Caepio replied. “Which is most fortunate, for they tell us that Tolosa knew of our approach for several weeks now and have not been idle, they have stockpiled food and grain. They are preparing for a long siege.”

The same Centurion replied. “Even without help from those in the city, we will take this haven of rebels and thieves before the season is over.”


Compared to most of the Gallic cities, Tolosa was unusually large. Many tens of thousands lived within its wooden walls, including many fierce warriors.

And Tolosa could afford the warriors. It was incredibly rich, its temples flowed with gold and silver and merchants brought further wealth with luxury items from as far away as Hispania, Britannia and the Germanic lands.

The Legions had been laying siege to Tolosa for three days, preventing anything and anyone from getting in or out, unless the consul desired it. There was escape for the besieged, they had no choice but to wait in the city and let hunger and despair take them.

Except that Caepio did not want to wait for the city to starve, he wanted the city now.
Caepio and the other high-ranking officers looked upon the city from a small hill that the most part of the army was camped around.

“This is the plan”. Caepio began to speak. “  All of Legio I and half of Legio II will assault the eastern gate and wall of the city, the side facing us.”

He pointed down into the camp. “The immunes have constructed fifty ladders and five rams, I feel this should be enough siege equipment to attack the walls. Have your Hastati and Principes take turns in climbing the walls, this will be a hard fight and I do not wish my men to die from exhaustion. Keep half of the Triarii behind the line to defend our rear and the other half to defend our camp.”

“You spoke of only half of Legio II attacking the eastern wall, what will this other half do?” Questioned Legio II’s commanding Legate.

“Word has reached me that the western gate is manned by a combination of enemy men and those that belong to a nobleman allied to us and that he has a slight majority in men” The Consul replied “the remaining 3000 men will march upon the western gate via the going through the nearby forest so as the Gauls do not see the them heading towards the gate.”

He continued explaining the plan. “When these legionnaires are ready to attack the Noble has promised to open the gate and fight the other Gauls, with so many of the enemy defending the eastern city, this division should easily enter the city, taking the inhabitants by surprise.”

The first rays of sunlight lit up the eastern sky, a new day, a red day of blood.

The legions had risen early and were now ready to attack Tolosa but first Caepio had to give his battle speech.

Caepio rode in front of the lined legionnaires on his horse, wearing full battle armour.
“Men and citizens of Rome, hear me!” He screamed at the top of his voice.

“We start this battle at the rising of the sun, by its setting tonight, some of us will be dead. But it will not be a vain death, for it will bring victory to Rome, death to her enemies and riches to her people! Those of us who survive will drink to your memory, and never will be forgotten what glorious deeds you did with your last breath.”

Caepio took a breath. “For those that live, plunder, treasure will be yours. Gold and silver and precious stones you shall possess. Slaves will be at your bidding and women, women young and fresh will be yours to take as you wish.”

“Last of all I say this. Follow your superior’s commands, keep your discipline and do not let your guard down. When you climb that ladder, burst through the gates and drive your sword through the enemy, remember always the dishonour and betrayal done to us by these people, serve out justice and award them their punishment!” Caepio said as he galloped in front of the legionnaires, his words and manner rousing them to mock and laugh at the enemy in front of them.

The battle had started. The legions moved with the precision of a well-oiled machine, first the Hastati carrying the ladders and pushing the rams, two seconds after the Principes, formed behind the Hastati followed, with the Triarii marching behind.
Consul Caepio, the Legates, his bodyguards and the equites were last, the best place to command the battle.
All but the Hastati stopped just out of range of missiles from the city. As the darts, arrows and any other conceivable projectile entered the sky above the city and ahead of it the Hastati formed into the tortoise formation, continuing to march forward. Those carrying the siege equipment rose their shields ahead of them, but many fell with each volley, but it did not stop the ladders or battering rams as each man fallen was promptly replaced.
As the ladders approached the walls the Hastati threw their Pila over the wall, hitting many men on and behind the wooden ramparts. The Roman soldiers climbed up the ladders and fought the Gallic defenders. Some ladders were pushed away from the wall, killing or wounding the attackers and breaking the ladders with the fall. As the ram approached the gate it opened, and hundreds of swordsmen, eager for battle, poured forth attacking the soldiers assigned to the battering ram. Other centuries joined in as the sally progressed.


Lucius and Sextus Caesennius were not with the Equites or other cavalry watching the battle from behind, they had been assigned to the army that was to attack via the western gate.
As the first ladder went against the walls, Lactus Aetius, second in command of the legion, gave the order to march. 3000 soldiers and around a hundred cavalry moved at once, going behind the camp and disappearing into the forest, only to appear when approaching the western gate.
Lactus Aetius was a Tribunus Laticlavius, and despite being only twenty-seven, being of the senatorial rank made him second in command of the second legion.
Lucius rode, most unusually, next to Lactus; the consul had decided that he would have a special job. The ride to the gate would take several hours and Lactus engaged in conversation with Lucius about normal things, as if both of them were rather riding through the Italian countryside than marching to a battle; in all in all Lucius tried his best to focus on the conversation but his attention kept returning to the ugly scar going down the side of Lactus’ face.

After about half an hour the pleasantries ended and Aetius went straight to business.
“The Consul has decided to give you a mission of your own in this battle.”

Lucius’ attention was peaked. “A mission? What is it?”

Aetius explained the mission. “In Tolosa in a large temple and shrine to the gods of the Gauls. It is incredibly wealthy, full of gold and silver, sacrifices to their gods.”

Aetius lowered his voice, the mention of gold bought unwanted attention. “Caepio wants the gold. All of it. You will command three centuries to take and secure the temples; apart from these soldiers no others are to enter the area. There is to be no plundering or looting of any kind, just kill anyone in there, no survivors.”

“I will follow the instructions to the letter.” Civilis said. He knew that this was his chance to increase his importance in the eyes of Caepio.

The conversation then turned towards the history of Gaul, The rebellion of Tolosa and the Cimbri, of which Civilis knew only brought fear to veteran warriors. They even talked about Aetius’ scar and its origin: the sword of a Cimbri warrior three years previous.

At the western gate the Gallic warriors were restless, there was the noise of battle on the far side of the city, cries and screams, echoes of clashing metal and fire among the huts. Yet they had to wait far away from glory and honour, guarding a useless gate in case the Romans came there. Some had snuck off to the battle leaving behind about a thousand bored men.
The leader of six hundred of these men was Brennus, and he was the nobleman who promised to help the Romans.
Brennus walked up and down the rampart, on the lookout for the column of legionaries, it was eleven in the morning and he had been expecting them at ten. A man to his right let out a yell and pointed to the forest. Even with his bad eyes he could see a red line appearing out of the green of the trees, marching towards the gate along the road. It would take twenty minutes for them to get to the gateway.

The marching pace in Aetius’ column quickened, the Principes were to be the first through the gate, being heavily armoured they would be able to push their way through the ranks of Gauls faster than the lightly armoured Hastati. Civilis has been given command of the first three centuries to complete his mission.

The gateway was full of activity as the Gallic warriors prepared themselves for the assault; slingers and archers were put on the ramparts, the spearmen and swordsmen massed around the gate. Brennus as best he could put his men nearest the gate and many along the walls, to stop the defence and open the gate when the time was right. As more men arrived to fight the Romans, Brennus thought he might not be able to open the gate with all the extra defenders.

Next to Aetius rode a man with not a spear but a red flag upon a spear-shaft, with the flag tied down by rope. Aetius ordered him to the front of the column. Arrows were starting to hit the Principes, but only stuck in the shields. As the flag-bearer reached the first row of men he unfurled the flag and the bright red of its colour was seen by all along the ramparts.

Brennus let out a loud whistle and tied a red cloth to his right arm; all of his men followed suit. The archer next to him opened his voice to ask what was going on, before a word left his mouth Brennus’ sword cut down upon the unfortunate mans head.
Immediately all those wearing the red cloth struck against those who did not, in the confusion many were caught unaware and were killed before they realised what was going on.

After striking down another defender Brennus yelled out “Open the gates! Open the gates!” The column was no more than a minute away.

About twenty spearmen was in the way of the gate, and they kept back Brennus’ men, spearing several to death. More defenders were coming; soon it would be too late.

Leaving the rampart Brennus picked up a large stone and tossed it at the defending spearmen, and another. This broke up the wall of spears, Brennus and his swordsmen charged through the gaps and stabbed and slashed at the suddenly panicking spearmen, soon they were all dead. Seeing the other defenders running towards him Brennus and two other men lifted the locking bar on the gates and swung them open.

The Romans were no more than ten metres from the gateway.

Lucius was riding behind the second century when he saw the gates open, and just it time. He galloped his horse almost to the first row of legionaries and standing up in his stirrups pointing to the entrance to the city, yelled at the top of his voice “Principes charge!”

Hearing the order from Civilis, Brennus had his own men stay clear of the gate and rushed at the defending Gauls amassing along the road.
The first century was passed the gateway, with Lucius right behind them. He saw the red-cloths, as Aetius had called them, trying to stop the ever-increasing men head to the wall.
Lucius rode up to the centurion. “Centurion, volley at the Gauls!” he said as Brennus’ line broke and started to run towards the Romans, with the defenders in pursuit.

“Principes, throw Pila at my command” ordered the Centurion. He waited two seconds for the Gauls to come within range. Then the order was given, one hundred Pila flew over the heads of the somewhat startled Brennus, landing into the charging enemy.
“Again!” Ordered the Centurion, this volley slowed the defenders down somewhat, perhaps hesitating in fear of even more Pila piercing flesh and shield.

“Principes, charge!” ordered Civilis, taking advantage of the situation. The Romans crashed with a thunderous noise into the Gauls, knocking several on them to the ground, never to get up; the feet of the Principes were lethal. Lucius himself charged into the battle, the horse reared up its front legs kicking several of the enemy senseless. He stabbed and slashed at the spearmen below him, blocking their blows with his shield almost instinctively; afterwards he would reflect that the cruelty of the centurions’ weapon training had paid off.
Even more legionaries had entered the city and formed up behind the first century. As they came into range their respective centurions gave the orders for Pilum to be thrown, again, and again and again. Thousands of Pila in almost ceaseless volleys landed into the frantic Gauls, the sudden deaths were becoming too much, soon they were wavering.
The Principes were ordered to push forward, knocking and pushing with their shields, stabbing and killing with the swords, the Gauls broke and routed ahead of the Romans. Lucius gave the order to pursue but did not do so himself, he had to find the Gallic nobleman first.

Lucius rode against the tide of legionaries, until he came to a stairway to the ramparts. Sitting on the stairs was a Gaul, with the weaponry and armour of a nobleman he was treating a nasty looking wound on his left arm.

“Ave Gaul, you are Brennus?” asked Lucius to the man.

“That is I.” Replied Brennus, getting up to greet him.

“Greetings, my name is Lucius Civilis, Tribune of the Soldiers. Rome will repay you handsomely for your loyalty, but she still needs your services. I ask you, which way is it to the Temples and shrines of this city?”

Gesturing towards the road he replied. “Follow the main road until it splits in two, one goes left, goes right. The road to the right will take you to the house of the king, the one to the left will take you to the temples.”

Lucius rode up the main road until it split in two. In his absence the Gauls had made a stand at this point, even pushing back the Romans for a short while before being overwhelmed and crushed; hundreds of warriors littered the road.

Lucius rode to the front of the Romans. He ordered to the legionaries. “The first three centuries are to follow me along the left road, the rest go along the right road, capture or kill the Tolosites king and his men.”

Not travelling at a great speed Lucius led his three centuries along the left road. There was no opposition, only civilians fleeing before them; apparently all the warriors had fled to the house of the king for their last stand. After ten minutes he reached the temples.

Due to the influence of Roman civilisation, the temples of Tolosa were not of the typical Gallic style. Many of the shrines were of the roman design, if not of the same size and majesty of those in Rome. But due to the trade routes, which go through the city, great amounts of gold and silver poured into hands of the priesthood, and the coffers of the temples.
A good deal of those that lived in Tolosa had fled to the shrines, praying to their patron gods to save them from the wrath of Rome. This day would prove above all that the gods are deaf to pleas of mercy.

And so was Lucius.
As he entered the temple complex he looked at the defenceless people praying for salvation he was almost moved to pity, then he remembered their betrayal, their crimes and their dishonour, and above all his orders. They did not deserved to live, did they?
Turning to his legionaries he said only one thing until the business of the day was over. Let none live.
The Principes broke formation and killed anyone they encountered, no pleas of mercy were heard, no attempts at bribery considered, even claims of sanctuary in the temples went unheeded. Lucius stayed on his horse for the whole time of the massacre, even when killing women under statues of the gods. The killing was weary work and numbing to the soul. By the end of it all some two thousand were dead in the temples, and Lucius, exhausted and feeling nothing, climbed from his horse, sat against the bloodied wall of a temple and fell into a dreamless sleep.

5. The Gold of Tolosa

Lucius woke with a start; his hands were shaking and could not seem to focus. Using the wall of the temple to support himself as he stood up, Lucius was trying to recall where he was when the sight of his bloodied hands brought it all back, the slaughter, the screams, and the blood.
Lucius staggered over to his horse and wearily mounted the steed; it had wandered somewhat during his sleep. As he rode over to the nearest legionaries he saw the gold; thousands of pounds of the stuff piled in the centre of a plaza, soldiers going back and forth from temples making the pile of loot ever higher, Centurions were watching the movements of every Principe and Hastati with eagle eyes.

It was time to retake command. Straightening his back and taking on the behaviour expected of a noble, he approached the closest Centurion.
“Centurion, report on the situation.”
The Centurion replied. “The enemy has been vanquished sir, the temples are all taken and we are now gathering the loot as the Consuls orders dictated. Also sir, you were summoned to the Consul five minutes ago. He is expecting you at the Kings’ house.”

Lucius left the temples upon his horse and rode back down towards the main road, then turning to the way to the kings’ house. As much as he would like to, Lucius could not force himself to go any faster, the sight along the path had him in thrall. Thousands of bodies, Gaul and Roman lay scattered, many missing limbs, hands and even heads. There was some still alive, moaning and begging for help, for the Gauls there would be none but the cold steel of a blade to end their misery, for the Romans a slow painful recovery awaited them, this was a world where the only anaesthetics was wine and the occasional opium.

Lucius arrived at the Kings’ house; the fighting here had been among the fiercest, piles of bodies lined the road as high as Lucius’ head while on the horse.  He dismounted the horse near the doorway, but before entering he looked at the highest point of the whole city. There was a single crucifix at the top, it was the Tolosites king, and it was both a warning and a lesson to the survivors; Rome does not let traitors to live.

As Lucius walked through the door he saw that the Kings’ house was of the typical style for Gauls and many barbarian nations, a long hall with a throne at the end of the hallway. Quintus Servillus Caepio sat in the crucified kings’ throne, although he was in full military armour, it was spotless; Lucius realised that Caepio had taken no physical part in the battle, his sword never had been drawn from his sheath except to point and look impressive. In contrast Lucius’ armour was filthy, dirt and blood covered it completely like a thin coat of paint, on top of that it emitted a vile smell.

“Ah Lucius my lad, I take it your mission were successful.” Said Caepio, more a statement than a question.
“Yes Consul, the temples had been successfully taken, no prisoners were taken and as we speak the treasure is being collected, under the supervision of the Centurions of course.” Replied Lucius, the only thought in his mind was to clean the filth away.

The Consul could almost read the thoughts of the young noble. “You are very weary and need to bath and rest, I will appoint someone else to finish the business at the temples, go and sleep. Go deserve it.” He said, dismissing Lucius with his hand.

When Lucius Caepio’s sight, his shaking arms dropped his helmet and running to the side of the house vomited up what little content was in his stomach, it was the late afternoon and he had not eaten since the early morning. His entire body shook for a few minutes more before finally relaxing, Lucius gathered himself up and made his way back the camp, plunder did not interest him, only food and sleep were his concerns.

The shakes continued for the next three days before seeming to stop altogether. The food and rest had improved Lucius’ mood and appearance, so much so that he went back into the city in search of loot; only to find out that apart from the expected share, all the best Tolosa had to offer had been taken. He was disappointed at that moment, yet he would be far more ecstatic when the Consuls plan was revealed to him.

His death was not meant to be this way, his body and soul humiliated for all to see rather than dying in battle like a warrior should. Dawn had just broken in the east for the third time since the battle; there will be no more for the king.
The Tolosites King managed to raise his head to look upon the city that he fought for and loved. With his last strength he looked into the sky; he saw only vultures slowly flying in circles. He then looked to his feet and the ground below him; mongrel dogs stared at him in anticipation of what was to come. Before his body failed, he saw a giant black bird silently hovering in front of him, upon its back a shape of a man, yet all black like charcoal, it pointed a large hammer held in its right hand at the king and although he did not hear through his ears, it said to him, and he understood “it is time, come with me”.
The King was dead. When the Romans found him they brought the crucifix to the ground, pulled out the nails and left his body on the hill, there was no burial for him, no one to honour his memory. The dogs ate and fought with the vultures for his flesh; even his bones were cracked and crushed. It was an undignified death, one reserved for the enemies of Rome, a punishment in life as well in death.

Lucius looked upon the long wagon train just outside the city waiting to begin the long trek to Rome. The wagons held the treasure of the temples of Tolosa, and it was truly a great amount; 750,000 pounds of gold bars and 150,000 pounds of silver.

Lucius was to command the convoy of treasure to Massilia which would then be shipped to Rome, Caepio had chosen him personally for he knew where the young nobles loyalties lay, and that Lucius would fulfil any orders, no matter how distasteful, given by the Consul.
Five hundred Principes and Hastati guarded the wagons; despite the victory at Tolosa, brigands and other rebels lived in the woods preying on the unwary. Lucius rode to the head of the wagon trains and gave the order to march. The cracking of whips reverberated along the column as oxen pulled the wagons, their wooden wheels and frames creaking as they began to move, slowly at first but then at a respectable speed.

This continued for four days, stopping at night to rest the efforts of the day. The convoy had just set camp on the fourth night when a messenger from Tolosa, from Caepio arrived. Lucius accepted the letter from the messenger, returning to his tent and opened the letter. As he read the message his face grew grey and started rubbing his forehead with his left hand. Although he had known what the message would be, Caepio telling him before he left Tolosa, he did not actually believe that the mission in the letter would have to be followed out. He walked quickly back and forth in his tent, the fear and guilt of what he has been ordered to do eating at his insides, his conscience troubling his thoughts. Should I do it? Is it wrong? What about orders?

Lucius left his tent and looked at some Hastati around a fire, laughing and drinking and otherwise enjoying himself. Lucius thought they looked no more than seventeen and the thought of what he would have to do to some of them almost broke his heart. Believing that he had a loyalty and a moral duty to serve his patrons wishes, the man who had helped him and his family through tough times, Lucius, his hands shaking as after the battle, made up his mind. Tomorrow morning blood would be spilt.

When morning came Lucius summoned the Centurions to a meeting in his tent. In a rough circle the meeting began, Lucius being the first to speak.
“Centurions, last night I received a message from Consul Caepio. Rebel brigands have been detected in the area, and are after the gold in the convoys.”

“No brigand will be a trouble to us, I have the upmost belief that we will repeal any attack.” The highest-ranking centurion present replied.
“And I am sure that you are correct Centurion, however the Consul has given me orders that will be followed out”. Said Lucius.

Lucius continued. “The convoy will be broken into four segments, and they shall leave the camp one after the other, every hour.”

The centurions looked at each other in concern before the head Centurion responded. “Sir, that will make us an easy target for the brigands, we cannot divide our forces so recklessly”.
“Perhaps, perhaps.” Said Lucius, “But the Consul believes that they are after only the gold. That is why the first convoy, which has all the silver and a small amount of gold, will have most of the Principes, to convince the brigands that this will be the wagon train to attack and that the rest carry only worthless items.”

The Centurions began to protest, about dividing their forces, and that keeping the wagon train intact what mean that they would be in Massilia by nightfall, but the look on Lucius’ face quieted them, even though what he was feeling was entirely different.

The first convoy began to move, with all of the Principes guarding the least of the treasure, and with Lucius about halfway down this wagon train. Although the legionaries and Centurions had misgivings and fears of what was happening and what may happen, only Lucius among them knew the truth, that only the first convoy would make it to Massilia.

As ordered every hour one more column would begin moving, on the road to Massilia. Unlike the first convoy however, these were not guarded by heavily armoured Principes but by the Hastati, lightly armoured youths and the Velites, the skirmishers of Rome.
The march had been on for three hours when the Lucius came to a crossroads. In the middle sat three men. The column halted and Lucius went ahead to talk to them. After a few minutes they moved out of the way, being given some silver, and the wagon train continued on its way.
The following convoys were not so fortunate. As the second convoy arrived at the crossroads they found the way blocked by trees. The Centurion smelled a trap.
“Hastati on guard, raise Pila!!” Yelled the Centurion from the top of his horse; it would be the last words he spoke.
As the order was given by the Centurion a volley of spears, arrows and any other imaginable missile left the forest the sides on the column, killing many of them unaware, including the Centurion. Next came a wave of men, armoured with sword and spear and shield, quickly overwhelming the Romans, there was no prisoners taken. The brigands hid the bodies of the dead in the forest along with anything that might give away what happened. The convoy, instead of heading straight ahead, was taken along the right road by the rebels until it was out of sight from the crossroads.

The third and fourth wagon trains suffered the same fate, ambushed and butchered, although a handful of Romans escaped into the woods but would not last long there, hunger and thirst would claim them if the brigands did not.
Along the right road the gold of Tolosa was taken, until they reached a beach with a small jetty going out into the sea. The Brigands made camp there, waiting for further instruction.
When Lucius arrived in Massilia he had the treasure stored in a warehouse and found billets for the Legionaries. As the night went on the Centurions were concerned that the other wagons had not yet arrived, Lucius replied that they probably made camp for the night and he would send out scouts in the morning.

The following morning the scouts went out to search for the wagons. As they arrived at the crossroads the signs of battle, arrowheads, blood and the stench coming from the forest told the scouts what had happened, although there was no trace of the wagons. When word came back to Massilia of what had happened the Centurions went to speak with Lucius.
“We must have revenge! Our honour has been stained”. Roared the head Centurion. The other Centurions agreed with the sentiment.
“And revenge you shall have, my men”. Said Lucius, “I will send a message to Caepio for men to hunt down these…vermin who trouble us”.

After giving his word to the Centurions that justice will be served, Lucius wrote a letter to the Consul about the events, but it did not include anything about seeking revenge for the attacks, he knew well enough that the Brigand would remain unharmed. As Lucius watched the messenger head down the road to Tolosa, he wondered if there would be any evil to come out of this whole affair.

Five days passed before a reply arrived from Caepio; the gold will come to Massilia after all, albeit briefly. At the beach with the jetty, the brigands had loaded the gold onto ships sent by the consul, keeping 5 percent as their “fee”. The ships were to arrive in Massilia in two days, along with Caepio himself.

6. The Return to Rome

The easterly breeze pushed against the sails as the cargo ships travelled along the coast of Gaul. Ten of these ships, loaded with the stolen gold snaked towards the port of Massilia ahead of them. Standing next to a wooden swan head bust at the stern of the first ship, Caepio looked out at the others trailing behind, his calculating mind working on tying up the loose ends.

“Civilis, he should be easy to pay off, give him a small share of the gold and that will secure his loyalty” Thought Caepio, more complicated problems still awaited though.

“The Centurions will demand revenge, they will know if no action is carried out, sending out patrols on wild goose chases will work for a while, but they will catch on.” Caepio rubbed the back of his neck and continued his train of thought. “Bribery? No that won’t work and leave too many unanswered questions. The brigands will talk, gold and drink is a dangerous mix, they must be taken care of.”
The Consul would have no loose ends, only Lucius Civilis would know the truth out of the entire legion, it was too risky for anyone else to know.

Lucius waited at the wharf where the first ship was being tied down, with him stood the surviving Centurions from the march, standing at attention. The Lictors, bodyguards for the Consul, exited the ship first, ever watchful for assassins; Caepio left the ship last of all.

“Ave Consul!” Said Lucius and the Centurions in unison. Caepio saluted in return.

“My loyal men, when I heard of the tragedy my blood boiled and I screamed out for revenge against this indignation, I promise that you will see the Brigands on crucifixes.” Said Caepio, patting Lucius on his shoulder.

The Romans returned to the barracks where the remaining soldiers were stationed. After making themselves comfortable Caepio resumed talking.
“I realised the situation among the soldiers must be tense after the attack, that is why I came as fast as possible, using those cargo ships. I have sent orders for the Cavalry to hunt down and destroy these…murderers.” Lucius looked Caepio in the eyes when he said that last word.

One of the Centurions began to talk. “It is good that you do this Consul, many good men were lost for no good reason, I want crucifixion of all the thieves and murderers done here in Massilia, where we can see their suffering.”

Caepio nodded. “And it shall be so.” Caepio stood up, the others followed suit. “I shall not be here for long, I am rejoining the legion tomorrow as they march to the winter camp.”

The Centurions were dismissed but Lucius was asked to stay. “Young Civilis, I know you find this whole affair distasteful but do not worry, nothing evil will come from this, in fact you shall become considerably wealthier. I will give you a substantial amount of the gold to your family, you father will collect it when the ships arrive in Rome.”
Lucius did his best to seem not disgusted, it was not wise to criticise the Consul. “Thank you Consul, I shall continue to serve you faithfully forever on”.

“That is good to hear, Tribune.” Replied Caepio.

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