Marius' Mules II: The Belgae (5 page)

Fronto
frowned.

“
If we’re going to be fighting a million Belgae shortly,” he
muttered, “I’m glad Caesar’s given some thought to the danger of
allied attacks on the flank, but if there’s real trouble stirring
out there among several tribes, sending one man with one legion
could be a death sentence.”

The others
nodded their agreement.

“
And the one for me?”

Pedius
shrugged.

“
Crassus’ orders were standard military orders; yours come
sealed with wax. I’m intrigued, myself.”

He leaned
forward and let placed a tightly rolled parchment of finest
Egyptian import quality on the desk. It rolled toward Labienus a
little until it hit the wax seal and stopped.

Labienus
raised an eyebrow again.

“
I expect I’m supposed to open this when I’m alone
then?”

Fronto made a
‘tsk’ noise and tapped on the table.

“
For Mars’ sake, Labienus, we’re all senior officers. Just open
the bloody thing and tell us what to expect.”

Labienus
retrieved the scroll and leaned back in his chair again. With a
slowness and a thoroughness that irritated Fronto intensely, the
interim commander cracked the seal and unrolled the parchment.
Fronto watched as the man scanned down the text, noting with
interest the various expressions that crossed his face. A long,
silent minute passed and then Labienus let go of the lower end,
allowing the scroll to roll up once more before he dropped it onto
the desk.

He whistled
quietly through his teeth.

“
I can see why that was sealed.”

“
Come on, man” barked Fronto irritably. “What is
it?”

“
It’s an arrest warrant.”

Crispus, a
look comprised of equal parts excitement and worry, leaned
forward.

“
An arrest warrant for whom?”

The commander
stared at him in silence.

“
Labienus!” barked Fronto, and the man jumped slightly and
shook his head as if to clear it.

“
I’m to arrest Paetus, the camp prefect.” He sat in silence for
a moment, staring at the scroll. “Paetus! I’ve known the man for
years!”

Fronto reached
out irritably and grabbed the orders, unrolling the parchment and
reading for himself.

“
Looks like Paetus has been playing a few games. His family are
clients of Caesar, but it appears he also belongs to Publius
Clodius Pulcher, and that man’s already a serious thorn in Caesar’s
side.”

Crispus turned
to the older legate.

“
But we cannot arrest a member of the patrician class just
because he might be playing dubious political games with multiple
patrons. We’d need senatorial approval.”

Fronto
sighed.

“
Not for a trial in the field. If the man is found guilty of
treason against the army, the general can do whatever he likes with
him. Oh, there might be ripples to deal with later in Rome, but
nothing will stick to Caesar or us. See, if Paetus is linked to
Clodius, then that means he’s linked to Salonius, and that bastard
tried to turn the army against us. I think Paetus has made some bad
choices.”

He turned back
to the parchment.

“
We’re to detain him and ‘extract’ a confession from him.
Caesar authorises us to do whatever we must to get any useful
information about other saboteurs and ‘problem
individuals’.”

Balventius
stepped forward from the door and gestured at Labienus.

“
Sorry to have to point this out, sir but, with you and Paetus
being long-standing friends, then you really need to delegate this
to someone, and quickly.”

Labienus
nodded and gestured to Fronto.

“
What do you think, Marcus?”

Fronto let the
scroll roll up once more and turned to the one-eyed veteran
centurion.

“
Well, Balventius. If you’re willing to do this, I would feel
confident in passing it to you.” He held out the scroll. “Also,
Paetus is the camp prefect and since Caesar wanted you to consider
the position, you may have to fill in for a while in the role.
Besides, if Labienus appoints you to the role of interim camp
prefect, you’ll have enough of a level of authority to arrest
Paetus without having a senior officer present.”

Balventius
sighed and nodded.

“
I can handle it. Do I assume none of you gentlemen want in on
the details?”

Labienus shook
his head.

“
Just get results. That’s what Caesar cares about.”

Balventius
nodded and turned to the three legates.

“
I’ll draw a few of the less reputable men from my
legion.”

“
Be very careful,” Balbus cautioned him. “If this goes wrong or
Caesar changes his mind, there could be accusations of all sorts.
Make sure you cover your own back and those of your associates. I
don’t like this.”

Balventius
nodded.

“
Don’t you worry, sir. I can scare the shit out of a man
without even touching him. I’ll bet he drops his traitor friends in
it before I get within a foot of him.”

* * * * *

Paetus stood
with his back to a hut wall and three centurions before him like
disobedient children being disciplined. Balventius stopped at the
entrance to the compound to where he’d tracked the man and leaned
casually against a gate post. This had to be done professionally,
but also subtly, since it could cause ripples as far as Rome.

The camp
prefect jabbed in the direction of one of the junior centurions
with his vine staff in the manner of a disciplinarian. Balventius
was only half-listening, planning, as he was, how to approach the
problem. Behind him, out in the road, were half a dozen men,
hand-picked from three legions for their loyalty, their discretion
and, above all, their willingness to overlook certain
proprieties.

What was being
said was something to do with use of the training ground that had
been levelled out in the area beyond the camps; something about
efficient booking of facilities. Once again, Balventius smiled at
the very idea of anyone suggesting that he would have been any good
in that job. Too much bureaucracy, not enough exercise. Indeed,
Paetus was becoming slightly expansive around the middle, despite
having been on campaign for a year.

The grizzled
centurion waved a hand behind him at his men, gesturing that they
should maintain their position and stay out of sight. As he mused
on what sort of a man would actually want the job of camp prefect,
he realised something. For all the lack of respect he felt towards
men like Paetus who ate and slept well and stayed out of the
fighting, getting slowly more rotund, he would rather poke his
remaining eye out than try that job. That anyone had the patience,
let alone the desire, to solve problems in camp logistics boggled
the mind.

And whether
Paetus had been involved in conspiracy at any level or not, he had
to admit that, under the man’s careful observance, life in the
camps of six legions had run pretty damn smoothly.

He shook his
head irritably. He was spending too much time these days hanging
around with the officer class. He was starting to analyse his
orders before carrying them out.

Blinking away
a bead of sweat in the height of the afternoon sun, he focused on
the scene before him again. Paetus had finished dressing down the
three centurions who, chastised, saluted and turned to march
away.

Balventius
watched the camp prefect open a wax tablet and scribble a few
notes. With a quick gesture to the men behind him, he strode
forward purposely across the compound, grinding his teeth. Paetus
looked up as the shadow of the frightening veteran loomed over
him.

“
Centurion Balventius? Can I do something for you?”

The primus
pilus adjusted his thinking at the last moment and came to a halt,
standing easily in front of his prey.

“
Prefect. May I request we adjourn to your office?”

Paetus raised
an eyebrow.

“
This a private matter, centurion?”

“
Somewhat delicate” agreed Balventius with a nod.

“
Very well.”

Closing his
hinged wax tablet and putting away his stylus, Paetus turned and
walked calmly across the dusty ground toward his office. This
compound in the corner of Vesontio’s citadel had been allocated as
quarters for the camp prefect and his staff, and was surrounded by
a new Roman stockade of its own. The low building in the centre
that held half a dozen offices was obviously an original Gaulish
structure of stone and rough hewn timber. The largest office was
that of Paetus, while the others belonged to three tribunes
assigned to assist him and the two chief clerks under his
command.

The door to
the room lay open and Paetus strolled into the cool interior, lit
by two windows in opposite walls that also allowed for a breeze to
pass through; a feature the lesser offices almost certainly
wouldn’t have, Balventius would be willing to bet.

The grizzled
centurion stopped at the door and made a number of gestures at his
men. Efficiently, the group split up; two men following Balventius
into the office while, immediately behind them, two more pushed the
door closed and stood outside it.

Paetus looked
up uncertainly.

“
It’s a warm week, Balventius” he said with a slight smile.
“I’m generally leaving the door open for the breeze.”

Balventius
remained silent but gestured at the two men with him, who lit the
oil lamps that stood on shelves at points round the room. As the
camp prefect watched them with confusion and a sinking feeling, the
window shutters were pushed closed from outside with a gentle thud,
plunging the room into a deep gloom.

“
What is the meaning of this, centurion?”

Balventius
allowed himself a sad sigh.

“
Actually, Paetus, I’m not currently holding the rank of
centurion. Today I hold the temporary rank of prefect.”

Confusion
forced Paetus’ face to change repeatedly. The room was dark and
warming by the moment with the cloying smell of the burning
oil.

“
What’s going on, Balventius?” he said, earnestly, and with a
slight tremor of fear.

“
I’m afraid, Paetus, that I have been asked to assume your
duties for the time being.”

He let that
sink in for a moment and as Paetus opened his mouth to speak, the
primus pilus rode roughshod over him.

“
On the authority of Titus Labienus, commander of the forces of
Rome in Gaul and of Gaius Julius Caesar, praetor, governor of
Cisalpine and Transalpine Gaul, and of Illyricum, I arrest you on
suspicion of complicity in conspiring against the army and its
commander, and in the causing of unrest among the legions last
summer.”

Paetus was
staring at him, open-mouthed.

“
I have no particular desire to see you suffer, prefect, so
there are different ways we can proceed here. It’s all up to
you.”

The two
soldiers, having finished lighting the lamps, returned to the
doorway at Balventius’ shoulders where they lurked, menacingly.
Paetus clamped his mouth shut and Balventius had to grudgingly
admire the steadfast look that appeared on the prefect’s face.

“
Go on, before I speak.”

Balventius
nodded respectfully.

“
Very well. Firstly, you can tell me everything you know that’s
relevant and resign your commission and step down. That offer is
mine alone and I will answer myself to Labienus and Caesar if you
accept it… and you should. I will take your oath on the eagle that
you have told me everything and allow you to officially tender you
resignation of the position to Labienus and return to Rome. I’m not
even sure why you’re still here. I know you planned to step down
last year. That was why they approached me.”

Paetus nodded
soberly.

“
And?”

“
Option two is less pleasant. Let’s just leave it at that. Take
my offer.”

Paetus
sighed.

“
I’m going to make a huge leap in logic and assume that Caesar
has taken exception to something I’ve done, since I’m damn certain
I’ve never been involved in treachery or causing unrest and have
always given my complete loyalty to the Julii. Care to give me a
clue, Balventius?”

Balventius
folded his arms.

“
The general is aware of your other patron. You remember
Clodius, I presume, since you’re on his client list?”

Paetus nodded,
frowning.

“
And?”

Balventius
grumbled.

“
They say no man can serve two masters. It’s certainly true in
this case. Clodius and Caesar are not the closest of
friends.”

Paetus
shrugged.

“
I’m aware that Clodius has some unsavoury practices, but
surely…”

Balventius cut
him off mid-flow.

“
Publius Clodius Pulcher has been undermining Caesar in the
senate, along with other high profile Patricians. He is the patron
of Salonius, who you will remember tried to turn the army against
the general last year. Anyone who is on that list is no friend of
Caesar. You know that!”

Paetus
wandered across to the desk and took a seat.

“
Do you really need your escort?” Paetus enquired, gesturing at
the legionaries behind the centurion.

Balventius
stood silent for a moment, and then gave a curt nod before turning
to the two men by the door.